


Last Ditch

by Hypocorismm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Canonical Character Death, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Stiles, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Relationship Problems, Seelie Court, Smut, Unseelie Court, Werewolf Mates, fairy!stiles, past fairy!Sheriff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2210751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypocorismm/pseuds/Hypocorismm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people don't understand the promises they're making when they make them.<br/>(Or)<br/>Cora needs a mate, Stiles volunteers, and they find out that being werewolf-married is a lot harder than either of them expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cora had learned about the rules when she was young, long before the fire took her family. She had learned that werewolves were not solitary creatures and to be a solitary werewolf was akin to not being a werewolf at all. She had learned that you must choose your mate early, that choosing your mate before you really even understood the gravity of mating for life was the doorway to many opportunities. She knew it, but she couldn’t ever go through with it. She didn’t want to settle down that soon. She had so much ahead of her, so much life and exploring, and why would she want to get mated and start a life when there were countries to see and mountains to climb and oceans to swim in?

Except, she would lose everything if she didn’t settle down with a mate before she turned 22. She had 21 years to find someone she wanted to spend the next 80 or so with, or else she would lose her family, her inheritance, her land, her social status, everything. She would became an packless omega by default, and Cora hated it.

She was terrified.

“What are you going to do?” Stiles asked one afternoon. They were walking through Beacon Hills and passed the Mating Run Board’s annual banner announcing Mating Run sign-ups. “I mean, you can’t not do it.”

“I know. I’m so pissed. This rule sucks so much.”

“Run for president, and change it,” Stiles said, leading her towards the Sheriff’s station so he could drop off dinner to the Sheriff. They could’ve driven but it was such a nice early summer day that Cora couldn’t let that happen. For a supernatural creature, Stiles was very lazy, and Cora was trying to do something about that.

“I’m not smart enough for that,” Cora replied in a familiar, mocking tone.

“Oh, fuck Mrs. Franco. That bitch didn’t know what she was talking about. You weren’t a great student, sure, but that doesn’t equate intelligence. You could rule the world if you wanted, Cora,” Stiles said, nudging her with his elbow, his hands carrying one brown paper bag of food for him and Cora, and another for his father.

“I don’t want to rule the world; I just want to see it.”

“And you still can!”

“Not once I get mated! Not once I tie myself to someone random forever!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Everyone in this fucking town wants to stay in this town! My mate will not want to leave, I can promise you that.”

“You seriously don’t know that,” Stiles countered. “You could find a beautiful mate with a matching wanderlust.”

“You don’t understand the odds of that happening are. Werewolves don’t want to travel without their pack, and I’m one of the only wolves without a huge pack tying me to anything.”

“Pack of two sounds good enough for me,” Stiles said, taking a shortcut behind the bank and through the laundry mat parking lot, because he knew she liked the smell of laundry. Cora followed. The Sheriff’s station was tucked between the post office and an insurance business that looked more like a house than an actual business. Cora knew that Stiles knew every possible route and shortcut to get to the Sheriff’s station, had been walking there since he was 9 and had an actual list of the shortest ways to get there. She also knew that Stiles had timed himself to see how long it took to get to the station from various places (“For science, obviously,” Stiles had replied when she had asked why. She knew it was actually because he was as close to a juvenile delinquent as he could possibly be without actually being one).

“Yeah, me too, but we’re not like most wolves.”

“I’m not even a wolf,” Stiles reminded her.

She knew he wasn’t a wolf. She knew he wasn’t her kind, but sometimes it just slipped her mind that she and Stiles were not the same.

“No, that’s true,” Cora agreed and hurried forward to pull open the door to the station. Stiles led the way past the front desk and into the back, calling out a hey to Deputy Parrish before tapping on the Sheriff’s door. The door swung open and the Sheriff invited the pair inside.

“We come baring food items,” Stiles announced.

“If there are vegetables where I want fries and vegetables where I want meat, Stiles, you are grounded,” the Sheriff warned.

“I am 21 years old, you can’t ground me. I don’t even live in your house!”

“I am the Sheriff, I carry a gun.”

“And I’m still an adult who doesn’t live under your roof. I can do what I want.”

The Sheriff, human but still mildly terrifying, growled at Stiles but took the bag his son offered. Cora sank into a chair by the desk and took the other bag from Stiles, opening it and sorting between the containers. He had gotten a veggie burger for himself as well (Stiles had made a deal with his father that if he ate veggie burgers, so would Stiles) and curly fries, and she had gotten a grilled chipotle chicken wrap with onion rings, and none of the containers were marked.

“This is a veggie burger, Stiles.”

“It has bean sprouts!” Stiles crowed happily at his father. Cora watched while they bickered back and forth about Stiles’ choice for him and whether or not he should be eating fried foods (he shouldn’t be) and whether or not the Sheriff was going to send himself into an early grave (he probably wouldn’t). 

“I’m done with this argument,” the Sheriff sighed wearily, finally just taking a bite of his burger. “How are you doing, Cora?” he asked after a few bites. “You’re quiet tonight.”

“I’m alright.”

“She’s worried about the Run,” Stiles provided. She elbowed him hard in the side. “Fuck, that hurt. You have sharp elbows, do you know that?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone who’ll be a good match,” the Sheriff said stiltedly. Cora knew as both an adult and an elected official, Sheriff Stilinski had to encourage her to participate in the Mating Run, even though he himself didn’t believe in it. The fae didn’t believe in forcing anyone to settle down. In fact, Stiles’ parents hadn’t met until well after their 21st years, which was frowned upon if you were a werewolf.

Luckily, the Sheriff had been born to the Fair Folk and Claudia to humankind, and their rules for love and mates were much more relaxed.

Cora wished she had that life.

“I just think it’s unfair,” Cora said, which she’d been saying since she was 13. “It’s like a punishment. You didn’t find anyone in 21 years to spend your life with, so you get to be chased and caught, and you will spend your life with this person because the moon dictates it. It’s so wrong.”

“You could always sign up with someone,” the Sheriff responded.

“Like who? I don’t know anyone,” Cora said.

“You know Stiles,” the Sheriff offered. Cora and Stiles turned to look at each other and frowned simultaneously.

“No,” Cora said.

“Absolutely not,” Stiles echoed.

 

-&-

 

“What if,” Stiles started but shook his head. They were finally coming up close to Stiles’ apartment after leaving the Sheriff to finish his shift. “Never mind, it’s dumb.”

“Most things out of your mouth are dumb, but I still want to hear them anyway.”

“Why? So you can make fun of me later?”

“Who said anything about later? I’ll start right now.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Cora and she grinned.

“What, come on, tell me.”

“Just don’t make fun of me for this one,” Stiles said. Cora caught his wrist and stopped him.

“I won’t fun of you. Please, tell me?”

“What if we did sign up for the mating run together?”

Cora worried at her lip, watching and studying Stiles’ face slowly. He didn’t look away, only shifted in her grasp.

“You’re serious.”

“I wouldn’t mind being tied to you forever, honestly. And if we never love each other that way, you are free to love whoever you want.”

“Stiles, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“I want to. I mean, if you want, I want to,” he stumbled over his words, trying to backtrack and fix it simultaneously. Cora shook her head.

“It’s fine, Stiles.”

“What do you mean?”

“Give me some time to think about it, that’s what I mean.”

 

-&-

 

Two hours later, lounged on Stiles’ couch watching Star Wars for the hundred-thousandth time, Cora gives him a maybe.

 

-&-

 

The next morning, waking up on Stiles’ chest haven fallen asleep watching Star Wars for the hundred-thousandth time, Cora decides on yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is curious, the title comes from Marianas Trench's song Desperate Measures. The lyric I pulled the title from is "For a first effort. this feels kinda last ditch. I guess this just got kinda drastic."
> 
> DFTBA  
> -K


	2. Chapter 2

Cora approximately asked Stiles if he was sure this is what he wanted a hundred times over the next few weeks leading up to the Mating Run. Stiles had started off gracious, reassuring her that he wouldn’t have mentioned it if he hadn’t wanted it, and then he slowly just edged into annoyed. He gave her looks towards the end, just flat looks with a quirked eyebrow as if to tell her to shut up.

“So,” Cora said slowly in line to sign up for the Run.

“I swear to god, Cora, I will kill you if you ask me if this is what I want to do,” Stiles growled, exasperated.

“This is forever, Stiles. This is ‘til death do we part. You need to be absolutely certain that this is what you want.”

“I understand the idea of mates, Cora. I was there, remember, in class with you. Wolves mate for life, but so do the fae. Once we bind ourselves, that’s it. We’re done.”

“How come they don’t talk about fairies in any of our studies?” Cora asked, moving ahead as the line did. “I mean, you’re not endangered or anything.”

“No, not by any means. The Seelie Court by itself is a small nation, and that’s not even counting Unseelie or the unaffiliated fae.”

“There’s unaffiliated fae?” Cora asked.

“Plenty. Most don’t fall into either Seelie or Unseelie categories and don’t feel like pigeon-holing themselves into a mold they don’t particularly fit in. They don’t get, well, the best word is baptized, I guess, in either Court. They’re actually some of the more _elite_ fae outside of the Court’s royalty,” Stiles explained. “Are you keeping me talking because you’re nervous?”

“Yes, tell me more.”

“Did I ever explain the difference between Seelie and Unseelie before?”

“No,” Cora said, shaking her head.

“Well,” Stiles started, moving with the line. It was a long line. “The simple answer is that Seelie fae are light to the Unseelie’s dark, that Seelie are good while the Unseelie are evil, which isn’t quite true. I’m a bit of a mutt when it comes to my ancestry, with Unseelie and Seelie mixing. It’s not strictly forbidden, but it’s also not encouraged, but anyway, none of my family have ever been either or, good or bad, light or dark. Seelie Court is referred to as the Golden Ones or the Light Court, sometimes, since they tend to be kinder, gentler. Seelie like pranks and will return any kindness a human or other does for them, and you have to offend a Seelie fae to bring the wrath of the Court. Unseelie fae are more touchy.”

“Touchy?”

“They like chaos, like to bring war to them, by attacking anything they come across. They like to pit packs of werewolves against each other, even pit a single pack against itself in a civil pack war. They like to keep pets, too. They’ll force a wolf into its beta form and keep it there, or keep humans in Court. Not all of them,” he stated when Cora fixed him with an unimpressed look. “Unseelie fairies are more cruel, I guess, and more likely to be advantageous, and cunning, clever. My dad, before the whole ultimatum business, had more Unseelie coloring and mannerisms, that’s why he makes a great Sheriff.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said with a nod.

“Can I see?”

“You’re going to,” Stiles replied. She frowned. “I have to drop my glamours for the Run, like you have to shift. Board rules, and all that. Just don’t freak out.”

“I won’t,” Cora stated easily. “Why would I freak out?”

“Because it’s a bit jarring to see a fairy without their glamours. It takes years to be able to put them up, and most fae aren’t allowed outside Court until they’ve perfected them because a lot of people, humans, banshees, wolves, can’t handle seeing us bare like that.”

“I can handle it,” Cora reassured him.

“Have you ever seen a fairy? Other than me?”

“No.”

“So you’ve never seen a fairy without their glamours.”

“No.”

“Okay, well, there’s wings.”

“Obviously.”

“Mine are kind of translucent, dark but have this shimmer to them, and you can see dark veins throughout them. You can see those same dark veins underneath my skin, but they’re not blood veins, they’re veins of magic. My skin kind of glitters and it’s this light purplish color.”

“You’re purple?” Cora asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Stiles replied, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I know. My dad and granddad were the same, but my grandma was this amazing blue that made me think of summer. She was Seelie, so her coloring was brighter, less ominous, I guess. I get my eyes from her.”

“These eyes?” Cora asked, gesturing to the eyes she could see.

“No, I styled these after my mom’s. My un-glamoured eyes are blue, like this glowing electric blue, which is really startling considering the rest of my coloring.”

“So you styled your glamours?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s not always a conscious effort when you put up glamours. When I was old enough, and I put up my first glamours, Dad showed me what I looked like in our bathroom mirror, and I had made myself look a lot like my mom. Mom cried, I think, when she first saw me like that.”

“Mom cried the first time Laura and Derek shifted for the first time,” Cora replied. Stiles could understand the implications of her statement without having to ask; Talia had died before Cora came of age and never saw her youngest shift.

Stiles offered his hand to Cora, and she took it.

“Oh, remind me to show you the tradition of fairy pranks soon,” Stiles said with a grin as they stepped to the front of the line finally.

Stiles stepped off to one side and Cora to the other.

“Species,” the attendant asked Stiles.

“Fae,” he replied.

“Affiliation.”

“None.”

The attendant looked up.

“Affiliation,” the attendant repeated, giving Stiles an unamused look.

“Seelie,” he ground out. He hadn’t technically ever gone through the ritual of affiliating with either Court. His father had forsaken the fae before Stiles was even born, and because his grandparents were of both Courts, he didn’t automatically have to choose one or the other. But the majority of his lineage was Seelie, and he had spent many a summer in the Seelie Court, so that was the safest choice.

“Okay, last name.”

“Stilinski. S-T-I-L-I-N-S-K-I.”

“First name and middle initial.”

“Stiles, J.”

“Stiles Stilinski?” the attendant scoffed. “I know that’s not your real name.”

“You’re right, it’s not, but considering names have power, and I am a fae, you will not be getting my first name, you will be getting Stiles.”

The attendant glowered up at Stiles but filed in the First Name box with Stiles. Stiles could hear Cora answering her own attendant.

“Species.”

“Werewolf.”

“Classification.”

“Beta.”

“Last name.”

“Hale.”

“First name and middle initial.”

“Cora, C-O-R-A, D.”

They continues to answer questions for a few more minutes, general questions about their health, their family history, their education, before they were sent to different roped sections to await the run through the Preserve. Stiles found himself knowing absolutely no one, since everyone he knew was already mated, except- he grinned when his eyes fell on Danny Mahealani. Danny had graduated with Stiles and had been on his lacrosse team all four years of high school, and he was the only person Stiles knew.

“Hey!” Danny said with a smile as Stiles walked closer, edging between others waiting. This, Stiles decided, was the non-werewolf waiting club. He could feel the powers of some druids as he slid by, and he was sure they could feel his. Danny was human, and he knew at least three of the waiting ladies were in Lydia’s Banshee Group. He wondered how many werewolves were in the other roped section, if someone would be going home tonight without a mate.

That was a sad thought.

“Hey,” Stiles said.

“Who are you running with?” Danny asked. “Because I didn’t expect to see you here today. Or ever.”

Stiles laughed.

“Cora, actually.”

“Cora Hale?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Wow, Stiles. I wasn’t aware you and Cora were serious.”

“We weren’t even dating, so I understand how you could get that impression,” Stiles replied with a shrug.

“Then, why are you?”

“It’s complicated,” Stiles replied with a shrug. “Besides, I’m a catch, thank you very much.”

Danny laughed.

“Okay, Stilinski. You keep telling yourself that.”

They fell silent, listening to the other runners talking amongst themselves.

“Are you nervous?” Stiles finally asked.

“So nervous!”

“You and Ethan are really cute together, if that helps.”

“Are you? Nervous, I mean.”

“Yeah, but Cora and I were never, like, in love. We’re best friends, which is close I guess, but this is kind of like marrying Scott, you know? I just, I don’t want to see her unhappy with someone she doesn’t get along with.”

“Well, I think that’s good enough.”

 

-&-

 

The next time Cora saw Stiles, she hardly recognized him. She was shifted herself, her fangs and claws lethally sharp, and her eyes glowing beta gold, but Stiles had seen her fully shifted all of the time since they’d become friends. Stiles, though, never dropped his glamours. He said it was a preference thing, that he wasn’t bound by any law to wear them, he just felt more comfortable in his glamours.

“It’s like, being on a nude beach, I guess,” he had said the afternoon after they’d sat through a lecture on fairy customs. “I could go completely naked and it would be perfectly fine, but I feel more comfortable with my clothes on.”

She could tell it was him. It was his heartbeat, his scent, his raucous laugh coming from the creature before her, but everything before her visually wasn’t the Stiles she knew. He had the same full, bowed lips, and the wide eyes, but it wasn’t the same. His lips were shimmering purple, and his eyes were, as he promised, electric blue, glowing in the dark. His face was sharper, full of dangerous angles, the hollows of his cheeks more dramatic beneath cheekbones that looked like they could cut. His ears were pointed, which made her think more of elves than of the fair folk. His skin was glittering purple, the color of lilacs, the glimmer more pronounced in the moonlight streaming through the tree branches. His wings were what drew her in though; dark and luminescent, veins of darker purple ran up through them, the same veins that run, danced, moved underneath his skin. Even his hair, normally a wild mat of brown, was now darker, a violet color so dark Cora nearly mistook it for black until he stepped into a patch of moonlight.

It wasn’t jarring, or frightening.

This was Stiles, this was Stiles underneath his public cover. This is the man she would spend the rest of her life with.

Some werewolves say they can feel their wolves howl and sing in exciting times. Some say that they can feel it just below the surface of their skin, impatient and prodding at them to let them free. Some even say they felt as if they and their wolves were separate, that their wolves were more primal than themselves. Cora couldn’t say she’d ever felt separate from her wolf, nor did she believe that there was a more primal side to her waiting to burst free. She wasn’t even sure that there was a conscious other half to her.

Until she saw Stiles in those woods, glamours down as he raced through the trees, cajoling her and teasing her. He’d leap over logs and stay in the air as he beat his wings before landing, continuing at a run. Her wolf wanted him, wanted to claim that boy as her mate, and Cora was inclined to agree. She’d been worried, that maybe they were making a huge mistake or maybe that they were friend material only. But god, the way he smiled at her as she pounded after him, it wasn’t just friendship that burned in her gut.

There were other wolves around. She could smell them, hear them, sometimes even see them when their own chase brought them too close to her, but her focus fell almost completely on Stiles, on holding out the chase for as long as possible. Her mother, Talia used to say that on her mating run, Andrew had caught her fairly quickly and they’d run together to the end, but she’d have liked a longer chase.

“Come on, Hale! I know you’re faster than that!” Stiles called, leaping from a raised tree root and flapping his wings so naturally that Cora forgot he spent most of his life without them. He zipped between trees, laughing with his whole body.

Cora let herself go, springing from downed trees and swinging from low hanging branches after the boy until she reached him. She tackled him around the waist and brought them crashing to the ground. He was laughing as he rolled them over, his wings fluttering behind him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she said in return with a smile.

“I was gonna have this really cheesy pick up line about being caught, but the only pick up I could come up with was this must be the 8th castle because I just found my princess, and I apologize completely for that.”

“Stiles, we’ve been friends for 10 years now.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m used to your nerd-based jokes and lines.”

Stiles grinned, and Cora could see that his teeth were different, pointed and sharp like a predator’s. Stiles was so unassuming in his humanity that Cora often forgot that Stiles was not human, that Stiles was a predator the same as her.

“Well, now you’re stuck with them for life, so I hope so.”

“Come on, dork,” Cora laughed, pushing at him until he lifted off of her. He hovered, his wings beating rhythmically to keep him aloft. Cora stood and caught his hand, dragging him down until his feet touched the ground. “How’s it feel? To be without your glamours.”

“So good, but weird. This isn’t freaking you out, is it?”

“No, it’s good,” Cora said, reaching out to touch his cheek. His skin felt the same under the pads of her fingers, warm and soft as he leaned into her touch. “I like seeing you like this.”

“It doesn’t happen often. I’m kind of, uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay. It’s just me.”

“I know. I’m uncomfortable with my grandma, so it’s nothing personal.”

Cora laughed and took his hand.

“Come on, dork. We gotta go.”

“Is there a requirement stating we have to finish in a certain amount of time? Because I like it out here, don’t you?”

“We don’t want to keep everyone waiting too long or they’ll celebrate without us.”

“That’s hypothetically rude of them,” Stiles said, the corners of his mouth pulling down.  Cora longed to kiss the frown from his lips, which she wasn’t accustomed to. She’d always found Stiles attractive, but that’s because he was attractive. She hadn’t ever wanted to kiss him, not this bad. Not this noticeably.

“You know what happens tonight, right?” Cora asked, tugging Stiles towards the other end of the preserve. There was a crowd waiting for them, and she could hear them all chattering, their heartbeats loud even from this distance. “After the parties, and the alcohol, and the inevitable dog jokes?”

“The actual mating bit of the mating run?”

“Yeah. The part where I take you back to my room, and fuck you, and mark you.”

“Mark me.”

“I bite you, and you bite me.”

“What is it with you wolves and biting? You have to bite to change someone, and you bite to mate someone. Why is that a thing?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that wolves, actual wolves, don’t have opposable thumbs.”

Stiles leaned towards her and pointed a clawed finger in her face. Even his nails were different, Cora noticed, sharp like her own, with a lethal point, and dark purple to match the rest of him.

“I don’t need your snark.”

“You’re stuck with my snark, get used to it.”

Stiles’ face split open into a grin, so familiar and so foreign with his new features. Or, Cora reminded herself, his own features. This was the real Stiles.

“Hey, let’s go get wasted,” Cora suggested. “Let’s go get wasted, have sex, and start the rest of our lives together. How’s that sound to you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyy!!! College Kid Kathryn apparently forgets how to write and update and wishes to express her extreme condolences to all parties involved! Also, College Kid Kathryn would like to inform parties of her new Tumblr url; Deputy-Heart-Eyes.  
> One last note from College Kid Kathryn; Anyone willing to draw up Fae!Stiles would be her favorite in the world ;)  
> DFTBA!


	3. Chapter 3

The Mating Run closing ceremony celebration was long, and loud, and there was a lot of drinking by all involved. The wolves were served alcohol that had been infused with wolfsbane so it would actually affect them, which Cora was grateful for.

“Can you get drunk?” she asked, sliding into a seat beside her new mate who was nursing a glass full of beer, his glamours returned and his form decidedly human again. “I mean, you’re a fairy. You’re not human. That can’t be doing anything for you.”

“It’s really not,” Stiles stated, digging around in his pockets to pull out a thin shimmering flash. He handed it over to Cora who unscrewed the lid and took a whiff of the contents. It smelled metallic, and she scrunched up her nose, handing it back.

“What is that?”

“Diffused liquid iron,” Stiles said, pouring some into his cup and went on to explain, “works just like wolfsbane for werewolves. Too much is dangerous, literal poison in fact, but mixed with the right kind of magic and it acts like a dampener for the fairy system allowing the alcohol to do its job.”

“It smells terrible.”

“Tastes terrible, too, and it leaves behind an awful fucking hangover, but it’s good for loosening up.”

“Do you, do you need to loosen up?” Cora asked nervously. Her voice wavered with it, betrayed her. Stiles tucked the flask into a pocket and set his cup down nearby. He shifted and grabbed one of her hands, tugging her towards him. She went easily.

“No, I don’t. Do you?” he asked, nodding towards her own cup. She grinned and pushed the cup onto the table.

“No.”

“How do you feel about us ditching the rest of the festivities?”

“Stiles, we can’t,” she chuckled.

“Why not? Come on, we showed up, we mingled, we were offered congratulations, we can go.”

“You are really excited to get laid, huh?”

“Dude, you have no idea how long it’s been,” Stiles whined, flopping his head onto Cora’s shoulder. She raised her hand and ran it along his jaw. “Stop scenting me.”

“I can do what I please,” Cora reminded him, swiping her hand down his throat. “You have to put up with me now. I caught you.”

“Yeah, you did,” Stiles said with an obnoxious grin. Cora rolled her eyes. “We should get out of here, though. I mean, what good are we doing here?”

“We’re being social. We’re taking part in society. We’re adhering to the rules.”

“Fuck the rules. The rules are dumb.”

“Don’t appeal to my anarchist side.”

“Come on, Cor, let’s just sneak out the side and go have a party of our own!”

Cora made the mistake of looking right into Stiles’ earnest, bright eyes and caved. Those eyes were the downfall of her, every single time.

“Let me say goodbye to Laura real quick,” she said, sliding out of her seat and heading for her sister and her mate, lounged on a bench on the periphery, Lucas smiling at whatever Laura was waving her hands wildly around about. “Hey, Stiles and I are heading out.”

Laura grinned.

“Oh, are you now?”

“Shut up,” Cora grumbled, feeling her cheeks flare with heat.

“Just, you know, use protection and don’t bite too deep.”

“Yeah, I know, Laura. You and Derek have scarred me enough for a year now. I get it. I know the precautions and how to be safe and how to mate properly. I get it. Now, Stiles and I are heading out. Okay?”

Laura grinned even wider.

“Okay, have fun,” she said with a wink.

“I hate you.”

Cora turned and headed back for Stiles who was still slouched at the table where she’d let him, swirling his beer around in the glass. Laura and Luke simultaneously started howling behind her, which she should’ve expected. What she didn’t expect was the entire gathering to toss back their heads and howl along with them. Cora knew that Mating Runs tended to bring out the primal part in some wolves, the need to howl to the moon, to signal their place in the world. The town always got noisier around full moons, and Mating Runs.

Cora grabbed Stiles’ hand.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said, dragging him out of his seat. He followed, keeping their fingers laced as he stumbled with her to the car. Everything about Stiles was driving her crazy tonight, the warmth of his palm, the length of his fingers, the way he kept tapping her hand as they walked. She hadn’t ever been effected like this by Stiles, but she knew that it was different know. She’d feel a stronger pull towards him, the wolf side of her wanting to be near him. She decided to let her wolf have something for now, so she pressed him up against the metal of the car door and paused. “I’m going to kiss you, okay?”

“You don’t have to ask, you know,” he said, those lips moving teasingly to form words.

She rolled her eyes and pressed her mouth firmly on his. Stiles’ hand slipped out of hers and instead found her hips, dragging her closer to him. Cora had had boyfriends before, had had various one nights stand, casual hook-ups, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think of a reason why she and Stiles hadn’t done this before, and it irritated her. Just kissing him sparked tingles down her spine, pooling low in her belly. The fact that none of Stiles’ relationships had worked out when he kissed like he was made for it made her question his exes’ sanities, and his hands, Jesus his fucking _hands_ wrapped around each of Cora’s hips perfectly.

She really needed to get him home so she could see the full extent of what his hands could do.

He licked at her lip before he slipped his tongue into her mouth, and she really _really_ needed to get them into the car and back to his apartment.

“Stiles,” she gasped, breaking the kiss. “We need to go.”

He dipped his head and pressed open-mouthed kisses to her neck and shoulder, drawing little noises from her that she had never made before.

“Why’s that?”

“Because we really need to be wearing significantly less clothes,” Cora groaned while Stiles sucked at her neck, nipping and working hard at a mark that would fade. She dragged her hands up his arms and into his hair, tilting her head to let him work better. She hadn’t been a fan of marking before but apparently, now she definitely, _definitely_ was if the trembling in her knees and thighs meant anything. “Stiles.”

“Your place or mine,” he asked, finally breaking away. He didn’t take his eyes off the mark, though.

“Yours. Laura and Luke and Derek are going back to mine at some point tonight, and I really don’t need them hearing us have sex.”

Stiles nodded, eyes fixed.

“Stiles. Up here, babe.”

He tore his gaze away and met her eyes, his lips parted and swollen. The normally whisky iris of his eyes were nearly non-existent, his pupils consuming most of the space as he stared at her.

“Okay, so you really shouldn’t be driving,” Cora decided, digging in Stiles’ pockets for his keys. He was hard already, which yeah, he smelled so heavily of arousal that Cora should be concerned. “Chill, Stilinski.”

He whined as she pulled the keys out and pressed a kiss into his lips.

“Are you this turned on because you haven’t had sex in a while, or have you been harboring a secret crush on me all these years?” Cora asked, stepping away and walking around the Jeep to the driver’s side. Stiles climbed into the passenger side as she started up the Jeep, who did so reluctantly and with great verbal complaint.

“I’ve always found you really attractive, because I mean, you are beautiful. But I hadn’t ever considered it, because you’re my bro. But, I don’t know, it’s like a floodgate?”

She nodded. She understood that.

She hadn’t ever had inappropriate thoughts about Stiles’ fingers but now she couldn’t stop.

She eased the car, who hated anyone but Stiles normally, out of the parking space, which was less of a parking space since they were on the edge of the woods and more of a patch of grass, and out onto the road. The car was finicky but she made it work, even with Stiles staring at her from the passenger seat.

“Hey, Stilinski,” she said, punching him in the arm.

“What?”

“I don’t know if I’ve said this yet, but thank you, for giving up this for me. For not making me get tied to someone who I don’t know,” she said, taking the familiar turns back to Stiles’ apartment.

“You’re my best friend, you know? I couldn’t let you do that to yourself. I couldn’t, I don’t know. I’d want you to stop me from tying myself to someone I didn’t like or didn’t know.”

Cora pulled into Stiles’ parking space and shut the car off.

“You’re going to hit me for this, but this is your last chance to turn back. Are you sure you want this?”

Stiles reached over and unbuckled her seatbelt before he lifted her out of the seat and into her lap.

“How the fuck,” she started.

He wiggled his fingers and they shimmered purple, dark veins running through them.

“Magic, babe,” he told her. “Now, listen to me, Cora Hale, I do not want to back out of this. I want this. I want to take you upstairs, take off all of your clothes, and Lord help me, have you bite the fuck out of me because wolves are weird.”

She grinned and leaned down into him, pressing their lips together for a soft, chaste kiss.

“You realize you have to bite me back, right?”

Stiles scrunched up his nose.

“That’s dumb.”

She laughed, sitting back on his legs, her head brushing the ceiling of the car.

“It marks you claiming me in return. Consent and mutual claiming and you know, partnership.”

He looped his arms around her waist and pulled her back into his lap.

“I get it. I took Werewolf studies too, you know.”

“You’re an asshole,” she laughed, ducking her head to meet him for a kiss. She couldn’t get over just how amazing of a kisser Stiles Stilinski was. He had been holding out on her for years. “We should go upstairs.”

He kissed her this time, reaching over without breaking their kiss and removing the keys from the ignition. He popped open the passenger door and climbed out. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he moved, her arms securing around his shoulders, one arm underneath each leg.

“Thought I’d just speed the process along,” he said, pushing his door shut and carrying her with him. She wondered if he was always this strong or if pulling his arms away would reveal glittering purple skin like they’d been before. “Since you’re so excited to get me upstairs.”

She held her retort, instead finding a patch of skin just above his collar that she couldn’t help herself from latching onto, intent on marking. He got them safely up into his apartment and into the bedroom with little fumbling or jostling. He laid her out of the bed and grinned at her.

“I don’t have to drop my glamours for this, do I?” Stiles asked, pulling his shirt over his head. Cora sat up and shimmied down the bed to sit in front of Stiles. He looked amazing, his skin not shimmering and his shoulders wing-free. Cora preferred him without clothes, and didn’t care if his glamours were up or down.

“Not explicitly.”

Stiles nodded as Cora ran a hand down Stiles’ chest to his belt, staring up at him questioningly. She undid his belt and unbuttoned the jeans, leaning in to kiss his stomach. Stiles groaned.

“You look beautiful, you know that?” he asked.

Cora let Stiles’ jeans fall to the floor, and then worked his boxers off his hips until they puddled with his jeans at his feet. His cock was hard and waiting, ready for attention. Cora wrapped her hand around the base and licked him slowly. They’d both had other partners, and Stiles’ dick was not the first dick Cora had had in her mouth, but she hadn’t been as excited about those as she was about this. This was her best friend, and she had never thought about it before but she hadn’t thought about being mated to him, either.

She looked up at him and they locked gazes as she took his cock into her mouth and swirled her tongue around the tip.

“Cora,” he choked out. “I need-”

She pulled off and stroked him, smiling.

“I know. Me too.”

“More clothes need to come off, of you. You need to be naked, and we need to get to mating because I might finish before we start.”

Cora stood up, brushing up against Stiles intentionally before she pulled her shirt off, and tossed it towards his hamper. Stiles’ fingers, nails blunt and nonlethal, skirted down her side and to the button on her jeans. He tugged them open and pushed them off her hips, down to pool at her ankles. She’d chosen her cutest pair of underwear that morning, which was a pair of lacy red and black hipsters that she always thought made her ass look wonderful. They also matched her black and red push-up bra, which she changed into when Laura had given her the clothes she’d packed for after the Run.

“You are absolutely stunning,” Stiles said, touching the fake gem between Cora’s breasts.

“Do you say that to every girl you mate?”

“Just the ones I like,” Stiles replied, kissing her softly.

She hummed and reached behind her to unclasp her bra for him. He pulled it gently away and threw it onto his bedroom floor, stopping to admire her for a beat. She took his hands and placed them on her bare breasts, kissing him. He rolled one nipple between two fingers while their mouths worked together. He was careful in how he moved his hands, how he caressed her, even though there wasn’t much he could do to hurt her.

Although, Cora thought, he probably could do some damage to her.

It never occurred to her that Stiles was just as powerful as she was, given that he never displayed any of that power. He was content on acting and blending in with the humans.

“Did you pick up condoms?” Stiles asked, leaning in to nip at her ear lobe.

“What? I thought you were going to,” Cora said, leaning back to look him in the eyes. He looked startled.

“No. You said you were? Cora, please, please tell me you have something.”

She cracked a smile. “Yeah, I put them in the bedside drawer last time I was here.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but you’re mated to me, remember? You chose to be tethered to me for the rest of your life.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line.”

“Not my fault that I got to it first,” Cora teased.

“I love you,” Stiles said, dopey grin on his stupid face. “I’m glad we became friends. That was the best decision you and I ever made.”

“We didn’t have much choice,” she reminded him. “Two outcasts alone in the wild wilderness that is middle school.”

“I’m glad that we didn’t have much of a choice, then,” Stiles countered.

“Yeah,” Cora said dreamily. “Me too.”

“I mean, Scott wouldn’t have been as fun of a mate as you are.”

“Allison wouldn’t have been too keen on you taking her mate, either.”

Stiles frowned.

“Remind me to call Scott and see how he’s doing tomorrow, okay?”

Cora nodded and darted in to kiss Stiles deeply, stumbling them back towards his bed. Stiles fell backwards first and startled, throwing his hands out to catch them both in a protective bubble of shimmering magic.

“Whoa. I don’t think I’ve ever scared you that much before,” Cora said. She reached out from where she was hovering above Stiles and touched the warm bubble. It hummed where she prodded it, releasing the scent that was almost identical to Stiles’, except not. It smelled more, Cora thought, of glitter. She would tackle that later. Right then, though… “Can you put us on the bed? I really want you to fuck me.”

Stiles dropped them gently out of the bubble onto the mattress, taking the brunt of Cora’s weight as she fell on him. She grinned and moved gracefully to swing her leg over his waist, straddling him. She rocked back and forth, bumping her ass purposefully into his stiff cock and watching as his eyes fluttered shut and his mouth fell open. It was a powerful feeling but that’s not what she wanted then. She reached over and pulled out the drawer to his bedside table, fishing around for where she stashed the condoms. She ripped one off and rocked back again, this time making Stiles let out a tiny whimper.

“How long’s it been for you?” Stiles stuttered out.

“5 months,” Cora replied.

“Lucky bitch.”

“Why? How long have you been without sex?”

“Like 8 or 9, or 14 months.”

“Oh, baby,” Cora cooed. She laid her body against his as she kissed him. “You could’ve said something. I would’ve hooked you up with someone.”

“I dunno. It just didn’t seem pertinent at the time. I was fine with it, I guess.”

“ _You_ were fine not getting laid for over a year? I find that hard to believe,” she said. He shrugged and rolled them so Cora was flat on her back, staring up at him. He took the condom from her and sat back between her legs. “Especially since part of your smell practically since we met has been arousal or cum.”

Stiles laughed.

“It’s not like I haven’t gotten off for that long.”

“Yeah, I figured that part out,” Cora answered as she tapped the side of her nose. Stiles stuck his tongue out at her.

“Is there supposed to be this much talking in a mating…thing?”

“Well, any mating… thing with you would have this much talking,” Cora said. “But all mates are different. All mating experiences are different. That’s what supposedly beautiful about the whole thing is that you have something unique with your mate.”

 Stiles nodded along while he ripped open the condom wrapper and set about rolling it along his cock carefully and, Cora noted, with every step and precaution taken. That’s what happens, she supposed, when your best friend’s mother is a nurse and your father is the Sheriff.

He tugged on the edges of her panties and she nodded her consent when he looked up at her, whiskey eyes wide and pleading. They were pulled the rest of the way from her legs and tossed haphazardly away. He spread her legs and pressed delicate kisses to her thighs. He shifted and then moved her legs up over his hips. He took his cock in hand and lined up with her entrance, hovering over her while he slid into her wet heat.

“Quick question,” Stiles said halfway buried in her, causing Cora to bite back a whine. She hadn’t ever thought she’d get to fuck Stiles and now that she was here, she just wanted it to happen. She wanted the pounding heartbeat and the cooling sweat, the writhing and the begging. She wanted all of it, and she wanted it then.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“When does the biting happen?”

“Just, when I bite you, bite back, okay?”

“Right, gotcha, I can do that.”

He didn’t move.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“I get that it’s been a while for you, but,” Cora hinted, gesturing towards his dick. He chuckled and surprised her, sliding the rest of his length into her. Like everything else he did, Cora found out, Stiles fucked with a lot enthusiasm and what was probably thorough research. He thrust sloppily but hit wonderful, beautiful spots that made Cora buck against him, whining for more. He changed his movements often, switching between short bursts and long plunges. She couldn’t keep track of it, except for how good it felt, how good he made her feel. They were one, almost, and Cora couldn’t sort where he ended and she began but she knew that she didn’t want it to ever end.

“God, if I knew you were this perfect,” Stiles trailed off as he pushed hard and deep. She couldn’t stopped the gasping moan that came bubbling out of her, her nails dragging into her new mate’s back. One of his hands slipped down and found her clit, rubbing it in concentric circles easily while he moved, doubling the building warmth in her belly. He traced letters in the slick heat between her legs while he peppered her face with kisses, moving to her neck to suck bruises that she felt healing instantly.

“You feelin’ good, babe?” Stiles asked, burying his head into her neck.

“So good,” Cora agreed, voice more moan than anything else. She could feel the need to claim clawing just beneath her skin, begging her to sink her teeth into her mate and mark him as _hers_. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?”

She moaned as she nodded, her teeth sharpening, more lupine than human. Her orgasm crashed through her, sparking outwards through her torso and into her limbs, her toes curling as she curled herself around Stiles and sank her teeth into his shoulder. He let out a sharp cry but thrust up into her before biting into her shoulder in return, his body freezing up as he came.

She pulled her teeth out slowly and licked tenderly at the wound on his shoulder. Hers would heal in minutes, leaving just a scar that would never go away, but his they should move to bandage. He didn’t seem inclined, and honestly, neither did she.

He pulled out of her, peeled the condom off, and lay down, pulling her into his chest. He was panting while he dragged his fingertips down her back and back up her side.

“You’re the coolest best friend a guy could have, you know that?” Stiles said, stretching before curling around Cora like a shield or a blanket.

“I’ll let Scott know I beat him for coolest best friend this year the next time I see him,” Cora teased, biting playfully at the upturn of Stiles’ nose.

“Yeah, well, as much as I love Scott, he never gets me off, so, you’re the clear choice here.”

“I’m glad you’re my mate, Stiles. All jokes aside, you’re a good choice. Thank you for, you know, being there and letting me choose you.”

“Well, thanks for choosing me.”


	4. Chapter 4

Cora woke slowly, wrapped around a warm body that held her close in return. She hummed happily, Stiles’ scent filling her nose from all around her and vibrating the primitive part of her that growled _mine_. She sat up and stretched, her eyes falling to Stiles’ as he drifted into consciousness.

“Hey,” he said, voice rough from sleep.

“Hey. Good morning, Mr. Cora Hale,” she teased. Stiles smiled a dopey smile she’d only seen a few times, including the time Scott, Cora, and Stiles all snagged some wolfsbane and iron laced weed and gotten high together behind the bleachers at lunch.

“I like the sound of that,” Stiles yawned, rolling onto his side and curling up in a ball.

“Do you? No regrets? You’re not gonna make this awkward?”

Stiles laughed, cushioning his head on his arm instead of on the pillow.  Cora stood and rifled in his drawers, picking out an oversized t-shirt and pulling it over her head.

“You want waffles? Because I really want waffles,” she offered, leaning over the bed and pressing a kiss into Stiles’ cheek.

“Waffles sounds good.”

She dragged Stiles out of bed and tossed boxers at him before she trotted easily into the kitchen. She set about gathering all of the ingredients just as Stiles followed her, scratching at the trail of hair that disappeared into those boxers. On his shoulder, right where Cora had placed it, was an angry red bite mark. Her Claim on Stiles.

“Can we have chocolate chips in the waffles?” Stiles asked, plunking down on the floor near Cora’s feet.

“Yes, we can have chocolate chips, you giant two year old.”

He kissed her calf and she kicked him playfully. He leaned back and watched her. She set the waffle iron on the counter and danced out of Stiles’ reach.

“How do you know where everything is?” Stiles asked, tickling at her heel as she moved past him to get to the stove where Stiles kept his utensils.

“I’ve been here thousands of times. I’ve cooked for you. I organized this kitchen when you moved in! I know where things are better than you do.”

Stiles shrugged and let his eyes fall shut. Cora made three waffles for each of them, piling them one by one on a plate that she kept in the microwave, kicking Stiles occasionally to keep him awake.

“It smells really good in here,” Stiles mumbled after Cora had finished and had kicked him awake again.

“C’mon, get up, time for food.”

“Let’s just eat on the floor. I mopped sometime this year,” Stiles whined. Cora laughed but brought everything down onto the floor, sinking across from Stiles. He grinned triumphantly and fixed his waffle the way he always did, with half the stick of butter and even more syrup. He also always made a mess, so Cora was interested in seeing how much sticky syrup he managed to dribble on his bare chest. Cora carefully spread the butter on her own waffle, making sure there was butter in every nook and cranny before pouring just enough syrup for it to soak in.

It was how her mother always made her waffles when she was a kid.

She wondered, watching Stiles shovel food into his mouth at a disgusting, yet weirdly endearing rate, what her mother would’ve thought of Stiles. She hadn’t had the guts to ever ask Derek or Laura, since they’d had more time with Talia, but she liked to think that her mother would like Stiles.

Laura thought he was funny, if a bit of an immature dweeb at times.

And Derek tried to act like Stiles was the bane of his existence, but Cora knew that Stiles made him laugh more often than not, a rare occurrence since the death of Derek’s mate.

“Stop staring at me,” Stiles replied through a mouthful of food.

“Stop being so disgusting,” she retorted. Stiles, like the child he was, stuck his tongue out at her, wet mashed waffle clinging to it. This was the boy she had tied herself to, willingly, for the rest of her life.

“What do you want to do today?” Stiles asked after they’d finished their food, plates settled to the side on the linoleum. “Is there a certain after-mating schedule we should stick to?”

“Not specifically, but it is customary to visit family and friends, for congratulations and whatever. We can skip that if you want to avoid getting mocked by Laura for an hour.”

Stiles laughed nervously. “It’s not Laura I’m afraid of.”

Cora paused and thought about that for a moment.

“Oh my god,” she said, starting to laugh. “It’s Lucas?”

Lucas was a very shy, quiet guy that Laura had caught during her own Run, opting to run solo and catch her own mate instead of being Cora and asking the first available straight guy to be her partner for life. Well, straight being a relative term. A relative term that did not in any way apply to Stiles. Lucas, although a werewolf, was the least scary thing that Cora had known her entire life. And sure, her life was marred with a fire that destroyed her childhood home and killed all but three of her pack members, although two if you didn’t count the psychotic ones. Lucas was gentle, a bleeding heart who kept bringing home strays and puppies from the pound because they didn’t have anywhere else to go. Lucas was the exact opposite of Laura.

It would make sense if Stiles was afraid of Laura, with her quick temper and still shaky control of her Alpha powers.

But Stiles, secret powerful creature of the night Stiles, was afraid of _Lucas Mirabito_.

“Stop,” Stiles said, crossing his arms over his chest, fidgeting on the floor. “He’s just, he’s not scary. He just unnerves me.”

“Stiles. You can fly, and you’ve got magic. What about _Lucas_ is unnerving?”

“He just is,” Stiles said defensively. “Stop it. I’ll go to City Hall and get separated from you right now. I don’t care what I promised, I will do it! I’ll go!”

“They don’t do that. Mates don’t separate.”

“They will if I go to the Court,” Stiles said.

“What court?”

“The Court. You know, the fae Court. My Court.”

Cora raised her eyebrows at Stiles, suddenly reminded that Stiles wasn’t human. She wasn’t sure how she kept forgetting this. It was just that Stiles acted so _human_ , like he was nothing remotely supernatural. She forgot that he had the Court behind him if anything happened, and that he wasn’t as defenseless as she perceived him as, sometimes.

“What?”

“I just forgot that you’re fae.”

Stiles laughed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, pulling it away and stared at his hand accusingly.

“There’s syrup on my hand, and now it’s in my hair.”

“Let’s go shower,” Cora offered and grabbed their plates, standing to deposit them in the sink. “Let’s go shower, and then face my family as mates for the first time.”

 

-&-

 

“We have to go inside,” Cora stated, staring up at the house. Stiles sat in the car beside her, not speaking and not moving. He was trying, most likely, to shrink into the seat and not have to face the world, specifically the part of the world with her family.

“Do we?”

“Yes.”

Stiles shook his head.

“Are you sure? Can’t we go back home?”

“No. Get out of the car,” Cora finally said, letting herself out of the car and gesturing for Stiles to follow. “Come on, Stilinski.”

Stiles groaned and pulled himself out of the car behind her. She led the way into the Hale house where they were greeted by obnoxious noise makers and hooting even though they hadn’t seen Stiles or Cora yet. 

“I hate your family,” Stiles stated, shutting the front door behind them.  

“No, you don’t. You and Laura are bros,” Cora reminded him while rolling her eyes. She held his hand because she knew that, while he probably wasn’t terrified, he needed the support. She needed the support, too.

She had talked this whole mate business over with both her sister and her brother, tried to get the pros and cons from real people, people who weren’t just reading off a pamphlet. They told her the truth about the ups and downs of being mated, and Derek was honest with her about what it would feel like if she lost her mate, which no one warned you about. Laura warned her about the fights they would get into, just like a regular married couple, even if they’d never fought before.

“Derek and Paige were a great couple,” Laura had said after Cora asked. “Even in high school, but then they got mated and they would have extreme fights that lasted days.”

“It led to some great make-up sex, though,” Derek had said in passing, dodging Laura’s playful swipe.

Cora and Stiles fought when they were just friends, though, so she wasn’t sure why she thought that it wouldn’t get worse when they were essentially married, werewolf married as Stiles would say.

She had doubts, even though she was sure this was the right thing to do, and she needed the support of her best friend’s hand in hers.

Her best friend, her mate, her werewolf husband, all in the same.

“Hey! There’s the happy couple! How was yo-”

“Laura, don’t,” Lucas interrupted. “Just because you announced what our mating was like the second you saw someone familiar doesn’t mean these two want to do that.”

“It was awesome,” Stiles stated, leaning over the counter to high-five Laura with his free hand, making Laura grin conspiratorially. Cora always thought the two of them got on a little too well.

“God, what have I done?” Cora groaned but she still didn’t let go of Stiles’ hand. She didn’t want to. “Derek, what have I done?”

Derek, who didn’t smile often since Paige’s death, grinned at Cora like the asshole he actually was but never came off as.

“You’ve brought two of the most inappropriate individuals in the world together and made them family by law.”

Cora sighed and tugged Stiles to the kitchen table to sit.

“I need to apologize to the universe,” Cora stated, grabbing a bottle of water from behind her. She handed it to Stiles and then grabbed another. “Dear Universe, this is an unholy union that I am wholly sorry for. I did not think this through, and I am the worst person for allowing it to happy.”

Stiles smacked her good-heartedly before he cracked open his water bottle and took a long drink from it. They’d both drank some laced alcohol the night before, which didn’t lead to a hangover per se, but it did leave you feeling a bit odd.

It did for Cora, at least.

“Oh, now might be a good time to mention the bond hangover?” Lucas said from where he was cooking lunch.

“The what?” Stiles asked, raising his head and casting a startled look over the Hales. “The what now?”

“The bond hangover,” Cora supplied. “We’re riding a high right now, sort of. And we’ll continue on that high for as long as we’re together, but the first time we separate, we’ll both crash.”

“More specifically, it’ll feel like withdrawal,” Lucas said.

“Withdrawal I can handle,” Stiles replied.

“It’s not gonna be like Adderall withdrawal, Stiles. You will feel it in your soul, in every bone of your body, and it will hurt,” Derek said.

Cora knew that Derek was not just talking about the first separation, the initial hangover from feeling the bond pulled tight. He felt the bone-deep pain of a lost mate every day, the hangover not just initial for him but constant. The grief of losing Paige, of having killed Paige, was not the usual grief but doubled and tripled by the broken bond.

Stiles looked over at Cora and smiled.

“I can handle it,” he said, and she could sense what was implied without Stiles saying a word, which could have been a bond thing or just a best friends for years thing.

He could handle it because he had her.

“Yeah, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been months. Literal, actual, long months. That's what's happened, and I am sorry.   
> But hey, look! Chapter!   
> *Please forgive me for the wait between chapters*
> 
> Also, did I tell you wonderful readers about Friend Ingrid?!? She draws me fairy!Stiles and it's
> 
> [here](http://errevs.tumblr.com/tagged/fairy%21stiles)
> 
> for your enjoyment!


	5. Chapter 5

Cora followed Stiles, heading back to the car from Laura’s house with a duffle bag and a box full of her belongings. They stashed the stuff into the trunk and stopped to kiss slowly, Stiles’ hands wrapping confidently around Cora’s hips like a promise. She held him by the front of his shirt, and just melted into him like she didn’t have a care in the world.

The town was practically shut down, just like the rest of the country, for the mating, which meant that Cora didn’t need to be to work for the rest of the week. She didn’t have a care, honestly, until the end of the week and society expected newly mated couples to start going through the withdrawal.

“We need to stop before I do something I can’t do in public,” Stiles groaned, pulling away from her and then pushing her gently backwards. “My dad would be pissed if we were brought into the station for public indecency.”

She laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, okay. What did Scott want anyway?”

“Scott?”

“He sent you a text message while we were having lunch,” she said, nodding towards his cell phone.

“He wants us to go to the festival downtown. Apparently a bunch of people are there.”

“Is he okay with being there?” she asked, heading towards the passenger seat of the car while Stiles climbed into the driver’s seat. “I mean, Derek has a hard time going and joining in the festivities.”

“I don’t know, honestly. Some days Scott can’t even drag himself out of bed, but others he’s a bright ray of actual sunshine.”

“Grief comes in waves,” Cora replied.

“I know. I don’t know how to help him either, like when he’s down, he doesn’t let me know or let me near him, but when he’s up, he doesn’t want to talk about Allison because he doesn’t want to be down. I’m not sure he’s talked to anyone about it.”

“If he’s inviting us to hang out at the festival, he must be okay today, then.”

“I hope so,” Stiles said. “I want him to talk to me, but he refuses to. He doesn’t want to think about her, or about losing her, and he’s just trying to ignore the problem.”

“Sounds like a certain someone else I know,” Cora said with a smirk. “Come on, let’s go already! I want to get some cotton candy and a corn dog!”

“We just ate.”

“Yeah? Are you calling me fat, Stilinski? On the first day of our lifelong mating connection?”

“No, I am not calling you fat. Stop it.”

She laughed.

“I just want cotton candy and a corn dog, not a full meal. Besides, you have no room to talk, I’ve seen you eat yourself close to implosion on Thanksgiving and then ten minutes later gorge yourself on pie and ice cream.”

He grinned at her, and started the car. He took her hand as he drove, kissing her knuckles softly.

“It’s weird,” Cora stated.

“What is?”

“This, us. I don’t know how I missed, or ignored the possibility of _this_ for all those years.”

“To be fair, we were both awkward and dorky and serious outcasts. We weren’t looking for romance in each other, so we didn’t find it. Which is fine, because what we did find was far more valuable than an awkward, ill-fated teenage romance.”

“And you were in love with Lydia,” Cora replied.

“That’s fair.”

“She still with that douche canoe?”

“If by douche canoe, you mean her mate, Jackson Whittemore, then yes. She hasn’t dumped the deadweight, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately? You have me now, remember? You don’t need stuck-up, fashion-forward, way-too-smart, incredibly-good-looking Lydia Martin,” she teased.

“Sounds like you have a little bit of a crush on her, too, Cora Hale.”

“Of course, I have a crush on Lydia Martin. Everyone who lays eyes on Lydia Martin has a crush on Lydia Martin. But I don’t want to jump her- well, that’s not true. If given the opportunity, I totally would jump her bones. She’s hot, like-”

“Too hot?”

“Hot damn,” she answered. “But seriously, everyone on this planet, except people on the ace spectrum, want Lydia Martin. Gay, straight, bisexual, pansexual, whatever, everyone wants that woman, and that goddamn douche canoe gets to have her. What is that?”

“They’re kind of perfect for each other, you know? Jackson is an asshole, that’s indisputable, but they’re both overwhelmingly beautiful, weirdly power-hungry, and they both have this way of using the situation to their advantage. They’re both wealthy, good-looking, and unattainable to the rest of the world. Plus they complement each other in the weirdest way, with Lydia’s insane intelligence and Jackson’s insane athletic ability.”

“Jackson is a werewolf, though. It’s not that insane of an ability.”

“He was bitten, remember? The same Alpha that bit Jackson bit Scott, left them both to wallow until Laura picked them up and showed them the light of werewolf-itude.”

“So?”

“Well, there was a time before that bite, before that werewolf ability. Jackson was still at the top of the pack, so to speak, before he was bitten. His ability is natural, no super to it. He’s just good at what he does and he always has been, now it’s just got a super boost. Can you imagine Lydia with that same boost?”

“That would be terrifying, and hot as hell,” Cora whined, dropping her head back and just picturing Lydia Martin in the light from a full moon, practically glowing with the thrill of being that powerful. “Nope. I don’t need to think about that right now.”

Stiles’ phone rang in his pocket, and Cora instinctively reached out to take it from his pocket.

“It’s Scott.”

“Answer it,” Stiles told her.

“Hey Scott, it’s Cora.”

“Cora! Hey! You guys on your way? There’s some shit going on that you cannot miss! Like, holy shit! Lydia is here, and got into this weird catfight with Erica, and now Jackson and Boyd have to calm them down separately but like, Isaac is having a field day over this.”

“That sounds exciting! Is everyone drunk?” Cora asked.

“Ooh, yeah. Most everyone is wasted. I think I’m wasted. There was a lot of wolfsbane in my beer today. And Cora, there’s a pretty girl.”

“Is there?” she asked. “What’s her name?”

“I haven’t _talked_ to her!” Scott said, scandalized.

“Well, if there’s a pretty girl, you should talk to her.”

“But what about Allison?”

“Scott, we’re pulling into the parking lot behind the tavern right now. Can we talk about this when we get to the park?”

“Yeeeeeah!” he cheered. “We’re by the fountain! Well, I’m by the fountain, everyone else is _in_ the fountain.”

“That’s wonderful. We’ll be right there, McCall. Behave, okay? And drink some water.”

She hung up and waited until Stiles was parked to hand him the phone back.

“Looks like we have some catching up to do, Stiles. The group is already plastered and playing in the park fountain.”

“I would love to be that drunk. Can we get that drunk tonight?”

“Oh, baby, you know it.”

He actually fist pumped as they got out of the car and headed for the park. A live band was settled on the gazebo, bass thumping through big speakers, the music probably loud enough to be heard in Beacon Heights and the Nature Preserve. The town really knew how to through a party, if Cora was honest with herself. In the center of the park, the large fountain spewed water up into the air and it spilled over the sides, dousing their small group of friends. They were dancing in ridiculous ways, their bodies slow with laced, and unlaced, alcohols, their joy making their movements jerky and excitable. Cora grinned because they were all so dopey that she couldn’t not.

“Your best friend likes a girl, by the way,” Cora said, taking Stiles’ hand. “It might be that he’s completely shit-faced, but I’d talk to him if I were you.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles asked, nudging her playfully. They stopped at the bar, which was open, and got their individually laced drinks. Stiles nodded his thanks to the bartender and they headed for the fountain. “What else do you advise, counselor?”

“Mmmmm, ask me that in an hour when we’re drunk, okay?”

He laughed.

“Start drinking, then, babe.”

The afternoon and the rest of the night got hazy after that, moments blurring as they drank more and more, the wolfsbane and iron allowing the alcohol into their systems, allowing it to work. Cora wasn’t sure what happened, not really. She didn’t blackout so much as everything just blended together in the most non-consecutive, Alice in Wonderland-esque timeline. What she did remember, and what she could piece together from other accounts, was, well….

She remembered starting to drink, sitting at the edge of the fountain with a dripping Scott as he waxed poetic about a girl who had left the party, splashing him to raise his mood.

She remembered dancing with Stiles and the group as Lydia and Erica broke away from their boyfriends and started brawling in the water. A crowd surrounded and cheered as two girls fought in a pool of water.

She remembered, vaguely, beating Stiles at a hot dog eating contest which they both promptly regretted by simultaneous vomiting (that part she remembered perfectly, of course).

From then on, it was mostly secondhand accounts that filled in some gaps.

The Sheriff informed them that Stiles had climbed up on top of a cruiser and did a strip tease to the live band’s cover of Eye of the Tiger. Cora flashed the Sheriff’s deputy inside, which she apologized to Deputy Parrish deeply for. There were reports of Scott streaking through the town square, yelling at the top of his lungs like Tarzan while Isaac, one of three sober members of their group, chased after him with an armful of Scott’s clothing.

Cora was seen sometime in the small hours of the morning trying to enter the library, claiming she had an overdue book, and she had to return it so it could go to sleep with the rest of the books.

Stiles was seen crying on the steps of the library because the library system was just so beautiful that he couldn’t handle it.

Lydia and Erica, unable to be wrangled by mates, continued to try and rip each other apart throughout the night, until they were found giggling and making out sloppily underneath a tree by the high school.

Scott was found in the middle of suburban Beacon Hills, calling out for the pretty girl he say earlier, but as he didn’t know her name, he was mostly yelling out random features at the darkened houses around them.

Derek came to pick Cora and Stiles up from outside the public pool where they had tried, and failed spectacularly according to Cora’s brother, at scaling the fence because they wanted to skinny dip. He drove them home, made sure they stayed in Stiles’ apartment, before returning to wrangle and herd the rest of the pack into their individual houses.

The last thing Cora remembered was plucking her shoes off, pouring a glass of water, and writing herself a note, and then promptly falling into their bed, face first, and passing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait, but hope this great chapter made up for the wait. I, uhh, I enjoyed writing this chapter, so your cooperation in enjoying it would be greatly appreciated tbh ;)  
> Remember if you liked it, gimme a kudo, bookmark, comment, share, subscribe, however you share your love!!  
> If you want to reach me, I can be found at deputy-heart-eyes.tumblr.com for any reason!!
> 
> Also, you should really check out my friend, Ingrid's art of this chapter, which is amazing. You can find that
> 
> [here.](http://errevs.tumblr.com/post/129934482231/what-i-imagine-stiles-snapchat-story-looked-like)
> 
> DFTBA  
> -K


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Cora’s entire body hurt. She hadn’t been that drunk in a few years, not since they were all in high school and didn’t know any better. Every movement hurt, every muscle ached, her head pounded, and the light streaming in from the bright morning sky made her eyes burn. She let out a long, pained groan, and Stiles let out an equal moan from the floor. He, apparently, had only made it half on the bed last night.

She lifted her head and looked at the clock.

“It’s fucking noon already,” she said. “Were we supposed to do anything today?”

“I think death is on the list,” he mumbled.

“I think I checked that off already. This must be what death feels like.”

She looked and found a glass of water waiting for her on the bedside, with a note in her own hand tucked under the glass.

_For your headache! -C_

“Drunk me is very considerate,” she murmured, grabbing the glass and taking a big gulp. She instantly regretted it. “Drunk me is an asshole.”

“What? What is it?”

“I poured myself a big glass of vodka and left it sitting on the nightstand like it was water.”

“You couldn’t smell that it was vodka?”

Stiles pushed himself up on shaking limbs and crawled into bed, curling up with his pillow protectively.

“I have wolfsbane in my system, nothing works right now,” Cora defended.

“That’s fair,” Stiles replied, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “I don’t feel so great myself.”

“I think you drank more than I did.”

“There is no way you know that.”

She chuckled, and then whined as the noise hurt her own ears.

“I can guess why you’re worse off, though. Part of it is that there was more iron in your drinks than there was wolfsbane in mine. Stronger drinks.”

He groaned.

“I’m never drinking again.”

“You say that now, but we both know what’s going to happen.”

“I can’t help it, I like liquor.”

“You could drink without putting iron in it.”

“You could fuck off.”

She laughed, trying to keep it quiet to avoid hurting their heads any more than they already did. She shuffled into Stiles’ embrace and rested her head on Stiles’ pillow. He reached up with a gentle touch to stroke the side of her face and he smiled at her. She could tell that he was already drifting off.

Stiles’ phone buzzed where he had, amazingly, managed to plug it in to charge on the bedside table, and he let out an angry, unimpressed groan.

“I don’t want to know who that is and I don’t care what they want.”

Cora reached around him and plucked the phone from the table.

“It’s just your dad. He wants us to go see him when we feel up to it, and he wants to know how much we remember,” Cora told him, unhooking the charger by pulling on the phone until the charger gave way and plopping it on the pillow near them.

“I don’t remember much,” Stiles answered. “It’s all so hazy. I get the impression that my dad is going to be pissed.”

Cora went through Stiles’ phone for them, finding drunken pictures and text messages.

“You tried to sext Derek,” she snorted.

“Fuck off,” he said, rolling his eyes at her.

She turned the phone around for him to see and his entire face turned red as his eyes skirted over the message. She figured given the content of the message that Stiles had lost Cora at some point and he tried to lure her back to him, maybe, by offering her sex, but had instead sent the message to Derek. It was his fault since he didn’t just have people’s names as their contact names.

Cora was Hale with an emoji heart by it, while Derek was Hale with a painting nails emoji.

Laura was Almighty Alpha, with a dog emoji.

“I’m dead. He’s going to kill me.”

“Probably,” Cora agreed. “But hey, at least we had a good run.”

“A good run of twenty four hours,” Stiles retorted.

She leaned in and kissed him softly.

“I won’t let the mean man hurt you, you precious little pixie.”

“I’m not a pixie, pup,” he replied.

“I’m not a pup, Tinkerbell.”

When they had still been barely friends, sitting together awkwardly at a lunch table in the corner, they had been antagonistic towards each other, even if Scott had whined at them to play nice. They had had, and had continued to grow an arsenal of nicknames for each other, pixie and pup, Tinkerbell and Fido, Cosmo and Balto, Navi and Toto, Puck and Lassie, Sookie and Hooch. Back then, it hadn’t been friendly, but it wasn’t like they were doing it to be mean. It was just this weird kind of give and take, a back and forth relationship that grew to allow their big personalities without constant head-butting. Of course, they still had the occasional snit where one or both of them were unable to put away their ego and see the other side of the argument. That’s what Scott was for, their official, unofficial mediator.

“Oh,” Cora muttered, opening Stiles’ snapchat story.

“What?”

The first snap was on Scott and Liam Dunbar, a younger beta wolf that was bitten by a careless Alpha that Scott took under his wing, with the caption “like father like son”, their eyes flaring with the flash. Cora laughed as it went through the story, the next a selfie of Stiles and Deputy Parrish where Stiles called Parrish “Deputy Hotdog”. In true Stiles fashion, the next snap was Stiles making fun of Isaac’s scarf, then of Jackson and Boyd looking for Lydia and Erica.

“That’s adorable,” she said as a blurry, lens flared selfie of Stiles and her with a caption of three hearts. They looked so happy, Cora smiling and Stiles nuzzling into Cora’s hair. Cora noticed that she was wearing Stiles’ hoodie, probably for scent purposes as Cora never got cold.

The last few seconds of the story was a blurry shot of the Beacon Hills Public Library, which Cora didn’t really understand. She remembered being worried about books, but she didn’t remember _going_ to the library. 

“What are you looking at?” he asked, lifting his head in an attempt to see the phone screen. “What did I do _besides_ sext your brother?”

“Well, there’s a snapchat story,” she answered, before opening and sorting through each social media app. “There’s a nonsense status on Facebook, a tweet to Alex Gaskarth, and a post on Tumblr about whether or not you think putting iron in other food would have the same effect as drinking for fairies, which I’ll hand it to you, everything is spelled correctly and your argument is solid. But you did end it with booyah, bitches.”

Stiles groaned.

“Let’s never drink again, okay?”

She laughed and kissed him, rolling her weight onto him. She let the phone slide away as she hooked a leg over his hip and pulled herself up, resting on his waist.

“Good morning, babe,” she muttered, leaning over to kiss him again, resting her hands on his chest. She slid her hands up and rested them in his hair, tugging at his pain and siphoning a small amount out of him. He sighed happily. “Better?”

“You’re heaven sent, you know that?”

She laughed, tossing her hair back out of her face, and surveyed her mate laying out on their bed. His eyes tracked her lazily, blinking slowly, an easy smile on his lips. She knew Stiles, knew every part of him, and watching him half-asleep, and she had the desire to ruin the moment. Cora slowly leaned down and brushed her lips over Stiles’ while she dragged her hands down to his sides, and then mercilessly tickled him. His sides were the most sensitive, but Cora also knew that he was prone to being ticklish underneath his arms, behind his knees, his neck, the palms of his hands, his feet, his stomach, his thighs, and even in his hair.

“Nooooo,” Stiles whined, breaking into laughs as Cora switched from his sides to under his arms, holding herself in place using her thighs as he tried to buck and curl away from her. “Cora! Evil!”

“Yes, that I am,” she agreed, sneaking a hand up to get at his neck. He laughed loudly and she delighted in watching the laugh take up his entire body. The advantage of being Cora in a tickle fight was that there was one spot on her body that was ticklish, while Stiles was literally one walking tickle fight waiting to happen.

“Cora!” he screeched as her fingers deftly found the spot behind Stiles’ kneecaps that melted him completely. “I’m going to kill you! Make it stop!”

“You know how to end this, Stiles! What do you say?”

“No! Death before dishonor!” Stiles screeched. His, _their_ neighbors probably hated them, but as they were newly mated, they could get away with noise complaints until the end of the week. “You will never see me beg, Hale!”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I will,” she said calmly. She clamped her thighs tightly around his waist and then rolled them so he was on top of her. He paused, confused, and she slowly dragged her nails lightly down his back.

“Fuck,” he whimpered. “That’s not even tickling me. That’s just turning me on.”

She nipped at his jaw and kissed his neck. He melted into her, his guard slowly falling as she continued to not tickle him. She touched him gently, and kissed him, and just as he started to kiss her back, she returned to her assault, finding even more places where he was sensitive.

“She-devil!” he rasped, head dropping into her collar.

“Say the words, Stilinski.”

“No!”

“Say it!”

“Never! I sha-” he cut off as Cora was able to get one hand on his neck and use his curling response to get the other behind his knee, the uncontrollable laughter breaking off any speech he could’ve made. “Okay! Okay! I give!”

“You know what you need to do,” she said, unrelenting.

“You’re the best!” he said, cringing.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, you’re the best!”

“Try again, Stilinski. You have two more chances before I go into super-tickle mode!”

“Cora Hale is the ultimate supreme being, the pinnacle of apex predators!”

“And?”

“And I am not worthy of her presence!”

“And what’s that last part again?”

“And I am lucky to have her in my life, for I am a small, baby pixie who needs protection.”

Cora’s fingers stilled and she released Stiles, letting him flop onto his back beside her, his heart rate dropping slowly to normal with his breathing, his head lolled back against the mattress.

“Well, I’m awake now,” Stiles said. “What do you want to do today?”

Cora shrugged.

“I really want something to eat,” she said. “But, like, something I don’t have to make. We should go to a diner or something. Wherever, as long as I don’t have to make it.”

“That’s good because we have nothing in this house right now, food wise.”

“That’s not true. There was a couple of bricks of cheese in the drawer a couple of days ago,” she replied.

“Okay, well, you can have bricks of cheese, and I’ll have the butter tub, and we’ve got ourselves a balanced meal!”

She rolled her eyes, which twinged her headache but eye rolls were worth it.

“I’m not saying we have to eat the food in the fridge, I’m just saying we don’t have nothing, _technically_.”

“Well, I’m _technically_ going to punch you, I swear.”

She grinned at him and pushed herself up so she was sitting.

“Wait,” she said, grabbing his phone from where it had been abandoned. She opened up the voicemail app and found a missed call from Scott waiting for him from before they woke up. She started the message and listened.

“Hey Stiles!” he started, his voice quiet like he was trying to hide from his hangover. Scott had been drunker, and for longer, that much she remembered perfectly well because he had been drunk before they had even arrived. Drunk was an understatement, actually. He was absolutely hammered. “So, uhh, we did some regrettable things last night, but I had fun. I think. What I remember was fun. Anyway, I was wondering if, when you finally wake up, if you’d want to grab something to eat, you, me, Cora obviously. I, uhhh, I need to talk to you guys. It’s not anything terrifying or, you know, bad. I don’t think. It’s just, I need some advice, and you guys are my best friends. Don’t tell Isaac I said that.”

He coughed awkwardly.

“So, yeah, call me back when you wake up!”

The message ended and Cora hit the Call Back button.

It only had to ring twice before a cheery Scott answered, “It’s about time you woke up, Stilinski!”

“It’s Cora, Scott.”

“Well, it’s about time you woke up too, Hale.”

“Hi Scotty!” Stiles said, shuffling to plop his head in Cora’s lap. She toyed with his hair, threading her fingers through it and scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Did you still want to meet us to get food? Because we’re starving, and lazy.”

“She’s starving, I’m just lazy,” Stiles piped in. Comically, his stomach warbled right after.

“Yeah, I was thinking about meeting at the Mom and Pop place, the one Stiles loves?”

“The milkshake diner?” Cora asked.

Stiles popped up.

“The milkshake diner?!” he repeated excitedly. “Can we go to the milkshake diner? Can we? I want to go! I changed my mind! I’m also starving, and will die immediately if I don’t get something from the milkshake diner!”

“That was eccentric and excited simultaneously,” Scott said. “So, when do you think you guys will be ready? Should I give you time to have shower sex or?”

“An hour,” Cora said, then looked over at Stiles, with his excited expression and his wild hair. “An hour and a half.”

Scott snorted, and said, “Alright, I’ll see you at the milkshake diner in two hours, then.”

They hung up and Cora tossed the phone aside. She scrambled to the edge of the bed and found her own phone discarded with her jeans from the previous night. She plugged it in to let it charge while they got ready, before grabbing Stiles’ hand and dragging him with her.

“Come on, Tink,” she cooed, walking him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. “We have two hours before we have to be at the diner, and I intend to make the most of every second we have.”

-&-

Cora had been friends with Stiles first, since they shared Beacon Hills’ pity and circle of outcasts. She was one of the last Hales, one of the only to survive the infamous Hale fire, which no one talked about but cast sidelong, pitying looks at the Hale siblings like they were shelter animals that no one wanted or something. Stiles, while the son of a sheriff, the Sheriff, was the only living fairy in the entirety of Beacon Hills, if not Beacon County. His father had been a fairy before him, but apparently the Court was less than kind about interspecies bonding, and instead of leaving the love of his life, the Sheriff, then a Deputy, had forsaken the fae.

Stiles and Cora hadn’t gravitated towards each other so much as Stiles had forced himself into Cora’s life, demanding they stick together because no one else would. She called bullshit, because Stiles and Scott had been friends for most of their life, but Stiles had insisted until Cora gave in. That’s how their friendship had continued and developed for years.

But Stiles wasn’t Cora’s only friend.

Through Stiles, Cora had met Scott, and while Scott didn’t really get everything Stiles and Cora joked about, he was still one of Cora’s closest and most trusted friends.

“Hey!” Scott greeted happily, already having found a booth in a quiet corner of the usually very busy diner, which they had dubbed the milkshake diner. It was actually called Kit’s Café and while it wasn’t a café, it did make the best lasagna, burgers, pancakes, and milkshakes anyone in Beacon Hills had ever had. Its owners had opened it up what seemed like forever ago, but the diner had been run by a manager while the owner had moved to New York. Recently, though, the owner’s daughter had returned with her family, and had taken over the business.

“Hey Scotty!” Stiles said, sliding into the seat across from him while Cora followed. Scott had been nice enough to leave the side against the wall open for them. “How’s your hangover?”

“I’m just great,” he said with a frown. “I ache everywhere, including my toes, and I want so desperately to eat this entire restaurant and also simultaneously vomit. How about you?”

“She did the magic mojo pain killer thing and now I’m just dandy,” Stiles answered, nodding towards Cora.

“He also got laid,” Cora said. “That always makes him happy.”

“That’s true,” Stiles said with a dopey smile. “Everything is still a bit, uhh, unstable?”

“It is?” Cora asked, turning to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s the side effects of the iron. It makes things a little wobbly for a couple of days. Like, watching something through fog, or like intense heat when you can almost see the heat waves. It’ll be gone soon.”

“Days?” Scott asked. “How come you’ve never said anything? You shouldn’t drink if that’s what it does to you!”

“I’m a big boy. It’s just common side effects,” Stiles said with a shrug. “This is nothing. I promise.”

“Stiles,” Scott whined.

“Let’s talk about Cora’s hangover,” Stiles said, casting a glance at her. “How are you feeling, babe?”

“You’re serious,” Cora said. “You just drink that shit and allow your senses to be fucked up for days afterward?”

“It’s no different than what you and Scott did!”

“It’s very different, Stiles!”

“How is it different?”

“Well, Scott and I are feeling better already. We’re achy and our power is a little diminished, but if someone came at us right now expecting a fight, we could defend ourselves. Could you say the same? Would you be able to defend yourself?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles answered.

“Well, let’s find out. Use some magic, Stiles.”

Stiles frowned but didn’t move to prove her wrong.

“Alright, guys, chill. You can’t move out of the honeymoon phase until at least the end of the week,” Scott said with a slight whine. “Besides right now is not about you.”

“Right, you wanted to talk to u-”

Their waitress bounced to the table, grinning at them with her order pad out. Her name was Caitlin, and she was one of the usual waitresses during the summer and winter breaks from school, going to school for art management or something.

“Hey guys! I guess I’m going to be your waitress this afternoon! Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Water,” Cora said.

“Water for me, too, please,” Scott said.

Then Stiles ordered, “Triple chocolate shake, please, thank you.”

Scott and Cora laughed.

“Do you need a minute to figure out what you want to eat?” Caitlin asked.

“I’m good to order; what about you guys?” Scott asked.

“I get the same thing every time, so I’m good,” Stiles said.

“Well, I guess I’ll get a regular burger, no cheese, but with everything else possible on it, medium rare, with a side of cottage cheese and fruit,” Cora said with a smile at Caitlin.

“Alright, babe,” she said, giving Cora a flirtatious smile. “What about you two cuties?”

“Cheeseburger, medium well, no onions but with extra pickles, and curly fries on the side,” Stiles said.

“And how about you, Scott McCall?” she asked, turning to him.

“Well, _Caitlin_ _I-Don’t-Know-Your-Last-Name_ , I would like the western cheeseburger, medium, with an extra patty, can I do that?”

“For those eyes, you can do anything you want.”

“Alright, thank you! I want regular fries with that, but can you bring an extra order of curly fries for the table?”

“Do you guys want anything on those extra curly fries?” she asked. “I’ll give it to you free of charge if you tip me well.”

“Cheese and bacon, please! And we always tip you well,” Stiles said.

She laughed.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Anything else, guys?”

“No, thank you, Caitlin. You’re the best. Name your tip amount, and you got it,” Scott said.

“One million dollars.”

“Done.”

She laughed as she flounced away to put their order in and get their drinks ready.

“Okay, so you wanted to talk to us about a thing,” Stiles said, turning back to Scott.

“Yeah, I need your advice. It’s about a girl.”

“The girl you were whining about last night, I’m guessing,” Cora supplemented.

“I was drinking pretty hard,” Scott admitted, “because this girl, god, she’s perfect. And it’s so weird to feel this way again. I haven’t had butterflies since, well, you know. I don’t know what to do, because it doesn’t feel real, and it doesn’t feel like it’s been long enough. How can I feel like this for a girl that isn’t Allison? She was supposed to be forever, and then it wasn’t forever anymore. I wasn’t supposed to be looking at girls that aren’t my mate. But goddamn it, she’s perfect and you would both love her. But she’s not my mate. I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you talked to her yet?” Cora asked.

“No, but-”

“Okay, first step is just talking to her. She may be cute and have the best laugh in the world, but you don’t know her yet. You need to get to know her before you have a crisis.”

“But-”

“Scott,” Cora said, stopping him by resting her hand on Scott’s. “Chill.”

He let out a breath and flopped back in the booth.

“Right.”

“What do you know about her?” Stiles asked.

“Her name is Kira,” Scott said, his expression going a little dreamy. Cora watched him, biting back a smile because he hadn’t gotten that far-off, puppy dog look in a long time. “And her mother owns this diner.”

“Wait, her mother is Kit’s daughter?” Stiles asked.

Scott smiled and answered, “Actually, no. Her mother _is_ Kit. Well, her mother is Noshiko, but Noshiko is a kitsune. And you know how long kitsunes live.”

“How do you know this?” Stiles asked. “Are you a stalker?”

“No, Caitlin was telling me about it a few weeks ago while I was picking up Mom’s lunch order.”

“So Kira,” Cora said, surveying the dining area slowly, trying to search for this fox that had stolen Scott’s attention. Scott blushed and dropped his head onto his hands folded neatly on the tabletop.

“I just don’t know what to do.”

“You know Allison would want you to be happy,” Stiles said gently. Cora glanced at her mate- _her mate_ , Stiles Stilinski was her _mate_ \- and then at Scott. “I’m not just saying that, Scott, because it’s something people say to make you feel better. I genuinely mean this. Ally was one of my best friends, besides you and Cora, and she would want you to be happy, and she would not want her or her memory standing in your way. I know that it still hurts, Ally being gone, and if you don’t think you can give your all to someone new, then you take more time and you heal. But if you’re ready to let someone else in, you don’t have to feel guilty about it. You’re human, after all.”

“Thanks, bro,” he said quietly.

Caitlin came back just at that moment with a tray with their drinks, and a big basket full of curly fries smothered in cheese, cheese sauce, and fresh, crispy bacon pieces. Stiles and Scott lit up in almost the exact same way, and Cora stifled her laugh. Her stomach warbled insistently in her gut, demanding that some of those greasy, terribly unhealthy fries get in her body _right_ _now_.

Caitlin distributed the drinks and set the fries down in the center of the table.

“You want one?” Stiles offered her. “Free of charge.”

“You are heaven sent, Stilinski,” she said, kissing him on the cheek and snatching a fry before darting back to do her job.

Cora bit back her smile, because she adored this boy. She liked him so much.

He’d been right there the whole time, stuffing his face with curly fries and making the dumbest jokes. He’d been right by her side, not even waiting for her to notice him. He’d been there for her, helping her tough out the looks and the comments from people who forgot she could hear everything they were saying, and held her back when those comments became too much and she tried to lunge at the spectators. He’d been her best friend, so of course she hadn’t looked past that.

But now, looking at him in the booth next to her, she couldn’t stop the stupid swelling of adoration and compassion she had for him. She traced her eyes over the tips of his eyelashes shining white in the sunlight, and down the curve of his nose to the swell of his lips.

She leaned towards him and took his face in her hands, pulling him the rest of the distance to kiss him. That bond she could feel with him, however lightly, surged to life inside her chest and she pressed into him further.

“You guys are being gross,” Scott informed them.

She broke the kiss first, reluctantly, but only pulled far enough away to rest her forehead against his.

“What was that for?” Stiles asked, his minty fresh breath hitting her delicately on the chin.

“I realized I could, so I did.”

He kissed her, softly, gently.

“That’s a good feeling,” he replied when he pulled away, and they both broke into wide grins.

Yeah, Cora thought, it was a _very_ good feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The snapchat story that Cora finds on Stiles' phone is actually an art thing that my friend, Ingrid, drew after reading the previous chapter! It's just wonderful, so I suggest that you go check that out[here.](http://errevs.tumblr.com/post/129934482231/what-i-imagine-stiles-snapchat-story-looked-like). Also her accidental inclusion of Liam in the first snap lead me to adding Liam into the fic so woo!   
> I don't think I have anything else to say... 
> 
> DFTBA  
> -K


	7. Chapter 7

"Okay, I was thinking that we need to buy some _stuff_ for the apartment because this," Cora said, gesturing around her, "is way too bachelor pad for me to handle."

"Okay," Stiles agreed without looking up from the book he was reading on the couch. Cora sighed and hopped over the couch easily to land in Stiles' lap. "Hello."

She kissed him hard, slipping her tongue past his lips, running her hands up under his t-shirt to rest on his pecs. The book fell from Stiles' grasp as he moved his hands to hold her waist, his fingers pressing hot into her skin, pushing up her shirt. The kiss grew hot and insistent, which wasn't Cora's intention but she wasn't complaining. Sometimes she just couldn't stop herself from pouncing on Stiles, especially in their home. When he had walked out of the bathroom with just a towel slung low on his hips, Cora hadn't been able to keep her hands off of him. She touched the bruise that she had sucked into his collarbone as she pushed his shirt up over his head, tossing it away.

She wanted to leave a brand new line of marks, claiming him over and over. She wanted others to look at him and _know_ that he was hers.

"Mmm, no," she muttered, collecting herself to push herself back from the kiss. "We need to go to the store."

"The store will be there when we're done here," Stiles whined, trying to follow her mouth just to be met with her hand on his chest. "Cora, we could be having sex right now. Sex is better than buying curtains and looking at bedspread."

"Yeah, but sex will be here when we get back."

"But sex first."

"Think about it this way," she said, nipping at his earlobe, "if we go out and buy the curtains and bedspread now, we get it over with and we can come back _here_ for a whole night of uninterrupted sex."

He seemed to think this over.

"But-"

Cora slid off his lap and headed for the bedroom. Stiles stumbled off the couch and after her, probably expecting her to be getting undressed. She was, but not for the sexy fun times that he was probably thinking about. She tossed her sleep shirt and shorts into the hamper, and got out a tank top and a pair of jeans. Stiles made a heartbroken noise as she stepped into the jeans.

"That is not what I was expecting."

"You'll be fine. Just put some clothes on, adjust your boner, and act like you're a functioning member of society," Cora said, grabbing her old, gray t-shirt bra from the nightstand where she had discarded it the night before. Well, _Stiles_ had discarded it for her. She put it on, listening to Stiles' whining about how they were mated now and he shouldn't have to wait for them to be done shopping, they didn't need to go shopping, the apartment was just fine, and if she wanted to change it, why did she have to drag him into it? She chuckled and tugged the shirt on over her head.

"That's unfair. Take that back off!"

"Stiles, just get dressed."

He sighed as she turned to him and found him sitting on the edge of their bed, frowning. She sat easily in his lap, his arms coming around her to hold her in place.

"Babe," she purred, holding his face in her hands. "Think about sex, but on new silk sheets. Or in the shower where those creepy smiley faces aren't watching us from the shower curtain. Or-"

"What you're telling me is that if I go to the store with you, you will reward me with sex throughout the entire apartment," Stiles said slowly, taking the idea in bit by bit.

"I shouldn't _have_ to, but I'm not opposed to the reward."

"Oh, yeah?"

She gave him a quick kiss, and replied, "Oh yeah, definitely. Just spend two hours at Target and Bed, Bath, and Beyond with me and then we'll have loud, neighbor-annoying but totally allowed because of the Mating Run sex. We’ll have so much sex that we could potentially break our bed and need to buy a new one. I promise. The only condition is one trip to the store. What do you say, babe? Are you down for that?"

Stiles grinned at her.

"I got so lucky when I got you."

-&-

They had no idea what they were doing, that was obvious at first glance of their cart at Target. There was a box of condoms, a gallon of orange juice, and a new charger for Cora’s phone.

“We should’ve consulted Laura,” Stiles said, looking into the basket of their cart while they were pulled over into homewares department. “We’ve been here for half an hour and all that we’ve gotten so far is nothing that we came here for.”

“Laura would’ve laughed at us,” Cora reminded him, staring into the basket with a frown. “We could call Lydia.”

“Lydia would also laugh as us.”

“Yeah, but we need help, Stiles. We can’t wander around Target forever, and end up with condoms, juice, and a charger. We need ideas.”

“This was your idea, you know,” Stiles shot back at her lightheartedly. “We could be in bed right now, but instead we’re circling Target like a bunch of clueless vultures.”

She laughed and leaned in to kiss him gently. She loved kissing him. It wasn’t just the newness of kissing him, although that was part of it, and it wasn’t the high of being mated, although that also had a role in everything. It was just that it was Stiles. He was her best friend, and had been for years. They had a solid relationship before they even considered being mates, years of history behind them.

“Well, we should walk up and down the aisles until we get some ideas,” Stiles offered. “Better than staring at our failures so far.”

“Or we could just kiss here for a while. I’m not afraid of getting thrown out.”

“Oooh, I like this side of you, Cora.”

Cora rolled her eyes.

“Come on, kiss me,” she said, pressing herself flush against him. “You can’t deny your mate, Stiles. You can’t. Not this week. Come on.”

“Hey, I will remind you, _again_ , we could be at home, naked and in bed but you wanted to fix the apartment.”

“I wanted it to look like we live there together. Don’t you want that?”

Stiles grinned and kissed her.

“Yes. I want our home to be ours, but really, we should’ve talked to Laura or Lydia before this. Do you know what we need for our house? Because I have no idea. Rugs? Slotted spoons? This weird chopping thing?” he asked, gesturing to a device on the shelf next to them.

“I thought I knew and then we got here and there was just _so much stuff_.”

Stiles laughed, and it made everything in Cora squirm with delight. She dropped her face into Stiles’ neck and nuzzled him, rubbing her scent right into his skin.

“Oh, Ralph,” a woman’s voice cooed nearby, causing Cora to grip Stiles tight protectively. Cora turned to find an older werewolf couple that she didn’t recognize, their scents so intermingled that Cora couldn’t tell them apart, the woman holding to her husband’s arm with a fond smile. “Look!”

“Hi?” Stiles asked.

“Sorry, sweetheart, we’re not trying to be overbearing. It’s just that we were young and newly mated just like you,” the woman said. “I remember that glow, don’t you, Ralph?”

“I do. I remember that week,” he said with a grin. “It was so long ago, but-”

He gave his mate a special smile.

“So many years,” she agreed, “but they were all good. That week started a lifetime of good years.”

Cora wanted to coo and aww at them, but held her tongue.

“How was the Run?” the little old lady asked them.

“Fun,” Stiles said with a laugh, looking at Cora. His eyes were sparkling with small flecks of electric blue. She had noticed it sometimes, when he was just on the edge of coming or when he was laughing too hard to concentrate, and even when he was just too happy to _care_ about his glamour staying up.

“We should have a mating renewal,” the man said, winking and jostling his mate playfully. Cora loved that they had been together for many, _many_ years and they were still playful and in love with each other. That would’ve been her parents if- “Bring that glow back.”

“Not now, Ralph,” she giggled, her face turning red at the suggestion.

Stiles and Cora shared a look at the old couple flirting in front of them.

“We should leave the two be, sweetheart,” the old man, Ralph said. “They look like they’re ready to go home.”

That wasn’t entirely untrue, but it had nothing to do with the nice couple in front of them. Maybe they could come back another day armed with itineraries and advice from Laura and Lydia. Mostly because Cora felt the need to take Stiles and get him horizontal as soon as possible. She had thought originally that it was a good idea. She thought that their home should look less bachelor and more like they were together, even if she wasn’t much more than a bachelor herself.

She had been wrong.

Although Ralph and his mate were very nice and very cute, she didn’t want to be at the store.

“We should get going,” Cora agreed. “It was nice meeting you.”

She smiled at them politely like her mother had started and Laura and Derek had finished teaching her to, before she steered Stiles back to the cart. She kissed him on the temple and started them towards to the check-out. They would call Lydia, or Laura, for advice, but right now-

“We’re coming back; you know that, right? You aren’t getting out of this just because I had poorly planned our outing. I will reward you still because I appreciate the attempt, and also, you look really, really good and I cannot control my urges.”

-&

They slammed the door behind them and it was a miracle that they had managed to make it into the apartment before they started undressing. Their clothes fell away with almost professional speeds, and luckily they had bought that box of condoms so they didn’t have to worry about tracking one down. Stiles slipped a condom on while Cora slipped out of her underwear and tossed them away.

Stiles turned Cora up against their front door and lifted her up easily. She laughed and set her mouth on his, sliding her hands to grip his hair. When they were younger, he shaved his head instead of letting it grow out, until one year of high school, he just gave up and let it grow out. And now she had a handle to grip while they fucked.

It was great.

Stiles held her up with one hand, probably bolstered by magic, while the other hand guided his cock into her. She let her head fall back in delight, breaking the kiss as her head thunked against the wood of the door. His other hand came to hold her up and started to move her to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, we’re good at this,” Stiles breathed out, curling his body to meet hers. They were, though, really good at this. Cora could see veins of dark magic coming through Stiles’ glamour, but he didn’t falter once. He was strong, and solid, and his warmth against her was so fucking _good_.

His fucking presence was a turn-on alone.

She couldn’t help the moans that fell from her mouth, or the curses, or the downright blasphemy.

Not that Stiles was ever quiet.

“Fuck, Cora, fuck, Jesus Christ, you feel so good, babe, God,” he muttered, dropping his mouth to her collarbone. He nipped and sucked, mumbling still into her skin as he drove her closer and closer to the brink.

She ran her hands down his neck to hold on, stroking her thumbs over his skin.

Cora could hear a neighbor nearby complaining about the animals always fucking like they couldn’t control themselves, which made her laugh out loud.

“What?” Stiles asked, pulling his mouth away leaving behind a bruise already fading.

“Our neighbors don’t like us.”

“They’ve never liked us. It’s okay.”

She laughed, which turned into a frightening loud moan as Stiles adjusted her on the next downstroke to hit _just_ the right spot.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, right there! Right there!”

“Yeah? Right there?” he teased as he hit the same spot. She could feel her toes curl against his back, another unintentional cursing moan falling from her. His name started to come like a prayer, a plead, unbidden. “Tell me what you want, babe.”

“You know what I want, don’t be an ass.”

A hand disappeared from her legs and reappeared right against her clit, putting just the right pressure with just the right movement.

But Stiles was an ass and drew his hand away just as it was getting good.

“Fuck, no. Goddamn it,” she whined. Stiles grinned but didn’t replace his hand, so she let the begging happen. She needed it. She needed to come and she needed it _now_.

“Come for me,” Stiles muttered against her jaw, his fingers pressing right against her clit easily in the wetness. “You can do it.”

His circles weren’t perfect, and sometimes his fingers slipped further from her clit that was helpful, but Cora was so on edge, so close, so lit up like a livewire that she came from his imperfect thrusts and sloppy rubbing. She said some things that would make Laura clean her mouth out with soap but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

She was still riding out the toe-curling high of her orgasm as Stiles hit his peak, a grunt/shout/curse muffled into her sweaty, hot skin. They rested there, panting hard into each other’s space, before Stiles’ strength gave out and he pulled out of her and let her down. Her knees were weak and wobbly, so she rested herself against him while he tried to peel away the condom.

“Okay, hold on,” he muttered. He lifted her back up, thicker veins of magic running just under the surface of his skin while he carried her into the bedroom and deposited her on the bed. She curled up in the center, pulling a pillow under her head. She watched him until he climbed up into bed with her, flopping gracelessly on his stomach. He buried his face into the covers and mumbled, “round two?”  

“Nap first,” Cora replied.

“Nap first,” he agreed.

-&-

They went back to Target, this time with Laura in tow. Laura had single-handedly put their home together after the fire, with no help from Derek or Cora who were wallowing in grief without caring about their surroundings. She had bought everything, and decorated the whole apartment, then moved them into their new house when Laura had brought home her mate. She had made everything so homey when Cora and Derek would’ve been content to live in a house with nothing personal.

“Okay, so I went over your apartment, and first of all, don’t leave your opened condom packages in the entrance,” Laura said as they wandered around the homewares department for the second time in two days. This time wasn’t going to end in marathon sex, however, which was a disappointment. “Second of all, you need a lot of stuff for the kitchen if you’re going to live on more than take-out. We’ll throw you a house-warming party with some of my work friends and the deputies’ wives, and that’ll be more than enough. You need towels, a new shower curtain, actual curtains- this is an endless list, but you’ve got me now, so we’ll get you all squared away.”

Cora and Stiles traded eye rolls behind her back.

“This is gonna take forever, isn’t it?” Stiles whispered.

“I can hear you,” Laura sing-songed.

“Yes, I know. But is it going to take forever?”

“Yes.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he whined. He took Cora’s hand and swung it while they followed Laura up and down the aisles. She threw things in the cart after consulting on their opinions of style and color, which didn’t matter to Cora as long as it wasn’t obnoxious.

“Who’s paying for this?” Stiles asked suddenly, looking at the pile of linen and supplies in the cart.

“I am,” Cora replied.

“What?”

“Stiles, you’ve seen our bank account balances. We could buy a whole new house and furnish it and still have leftover money to get a pool or something,” Cora said, rolling her eyes at him. Stiles hated the Hale inherited eye rolls, Cora knew that, but he had still mated her, so he’d have to learn to deal with it. He was stuck with her and the Hale family for life. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t want you paying for everything, though,” Stiles replied.

“Actually,” Laura cut in, “I’m paying for this. I have a high paying job and savings that can handle this, better than yours, so it’ll be my Mating Run present to you. It’s traditional for the family to help build your den, anyway. If Mom was here, you’d have a whole new house, it’d be crazy.”

Cora smiled sadly at Laura as she whipped around to resume shopping, dark hair flying out in a semi-circle around her.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that?” Stiles said, looking between the two Hales.

Cora squeezed his hand.

“It’s Laura. You’re never gonna win. Let her help.”

Stiles looked at her, and she could practically see the hearts in his eyes. She was sure that if she were to look in the mirror, she would be giving him the same doe-eyed, head-over-heels look.

Sometimes, they nauseated even her.

She kissed him, because she could.

“Besides, we get to have a place that is yours and mine. It’ll be our apartment with our stuff. Our little den.”

“Is that a wolf thing?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, little safe havens where we can curl up and sleep, raise pups, other wolfy whatnot,” she said, teasing him. “What do you think? Can you handle living in a wolf’s den?”

“For you, I’d live anywhere.”

“Alright, you gross love-birds, pick a design,” Laura demanded, bringing their attention back to something for their home. Their home, Cora thought again. She really, really liked the idea. She couldn’t wait for all of her stuff to be moved into the apartment and for her finally, _finally_ , to have an official home with her mate. A little safe haven away from the horrors and hideousness of the world outside their front door. Yeah, that sounded perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, to apologize for your wait, I dropped a little unplanned smut into the chapter!!! (Also to appease the bae who wanted a longer chapter and I was whiney and... you don't care about my marital problems, huh?) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!!!   
> Enjoy the fluff while it lasts!!!
> 
> DFTBA  
> K


	8. Chapter 8

They decided to go on a proper, actual date before their week was up. They hadn’t quite gotten there yet, too busy getting busy in all the places they could. They both would go back to work soon and they didn’t want to have to start the process of the withdrawal any sooner than they needed to. Stiles was working at the local coffeehouse/bookshop while he was taking a break from school before he went back for his Master’s. He was specializing in supernatural creature exposure and their mythology before they came out, so to speak. There was anthologies and theses all over their apartment, and whenever Stiles had a minute, his nose was buried in them, learning and researching. Cora was starting at the Sheriff’s Station as a Deputy-In-Training after finishing her criminology degree and her academy training.

With Cora’s inevitable shitty shifts (she didn’t expect special treatment just because she was mated to the Sheriff’s son) and Stiles’ opening and double shifts, they would go through the withdrawal hard and alone. Detoxing from the high of being together without ever getting to see each other was going to be a bitch.

So they decided to go to the movies on their last afternoon together, watch a movie and maybe get a little frisky in the dark. They wanted to be a couple for once, and not just the kind of couple that fucks most of the time. They wanted to go out on dates, and be disgustingly cute together, and hold hands. They wanted to build a relationship outside of the bedroom, because Cora knew that if they didn’t, it would not be a fun rest of their lives. Granted, they had their friendship to build off of already, but friends and spouses were not the same thing.

At least, Cora didn’t think they were.

But what did Cora know?

She had been mated for less than a week.

“What should we see?” Stiles asked, his arm snaking around Cora’s waist as he tugged her into him. She smiled up at him, ignoring the marquee in front of her. She enjoyed the way that Stiles held her, protectively almost, vaguely possessive. She liked it and didn’t want to disturb it yet. “Star Wars?”

“Fuck off.”

“Come on, don’t you want to see Rey on the big screen again?” he asked, playfully nudging her.

“Don’t use Daisy Ridley against me,” Cora said, turning her face to the marquee. “You know what that face does to me.”

“I know,” he teased, kissing her cheek. “What do you want to see?”

She studied the list of movies, from the new Marvel movie to the new Nicholas Sparks romance.

“You want to see The Purge 3?” she asked.

“Didn’t the first movie have your doppelganger in it?” Stiles asked. “She was wearing that school girl uniform.”

“Stop right there,” Cora scolded. “I’m not putting on _any_ school girl uniform, not ever. Get the pervy little thought out of your head.”

“ _Fine_ ,” he murmured. “I still think you should go as Queen Mary for Halloween, like from that CW show. Your doppelganger looks so good in those dresses.”

She rolled her eyes.

“What do you think about Star Trek?” she asked, turning her attention away from her mate. “The new one looks badass.”

“I’m down,” he said, dropping his hand into Cora’s and dragged her up to the counter. They bought two tickets to the matinee showing, a large popcorn, a plate of nachos, a package of Goobers, a box of Sno Caps, and a refillable large soda before trying to find their seats. They found a pair in the back, a good enough distance from the rest of the groups around them.

“I wonder how blue they’re gonna make Chris Pine’s eyes this time,” Stiles muttered. “Hawaiian ocean blue? The bluest eye blue?”

“Pregnancy test blue.”

“Smurf tears blue.”

“Dolphin fin blue.”

“Asphyxiation blue.”

“That’s gonna fall off blue.”

“Blue balls blue.”

“Hypothermia blue.”

“Fat NYPD cop blue.”

“Tumblr blue.”

“TARDIS blue.”

“Ravenclaw blue.”

“Spousal abuse blue.”

“I- holy shit, too far, babe,” Cora laughed, falling back into her seat. “Maybe because Bendydick Cucumber isn’t in this one, they won’t need to have a blue off.”

“A blue off,” Stiles echoed with a snort. “That sounds dirty, like they’re trying to see who can blue first, or blue the most.”

“Blue the farthest.”

“Blue the hardest.”

“Blue the most frequent.”

Cora giggled, popping a nacho heavily weighted down with cheese and bacon bits into her mouth and practically moaning around it. Stiles was staring at her, piece of popcorn half to his mouth, his eyes tracing her.

“What?” she asked, mouth full of chip.

“You’re impossible,” he said, and even though that didn’t answer anything, he said it like it did.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m ridiculously attracted to you, even when your mouth is full of junk food. You are astounding, Cora Hale.”

“Would you say,” she started to ask after she swallowed most of her nacho, “that I _blue_ you away?”

“Cora, you did not- I can’t believe- how dare you. I am offended.”

He sat in silence, stewing over the pun that he hadn’t been able to come up with first. That’s what Cora kind of loved about Stiles, his love of puns, and his stony silences when he missed the obvious. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“No,” he grumbled, gently pushing her away. “You’re not forgiven.”

“You’re just mad that I got there first.”

“Yes! I am!”

She grinned, opened her mouth to retort when the coming attractions trailers started. She settled in and popped another chip in her mouth. She watched the screen intently, because the best part of any movie experience is the trailers. She loved getting excited not just for the movies they were watching, but also the movies that they could watch in the future. She loved leaning into whoever was next to her, and making quiet little judgments about whether they should see it or what could have been better about it.

“Babe,” he whispered at the end of the first trailer. She looked over to see his hand resting between them, palm up. She laughed quietly, because that was a subtle as Stiles got. He wiggled his fingers at her until she slid her palm into his, lacing their fingers together. A sense of relief washed over her, like her wolf had been worried that Stiles was too far away. She knew that she would have to let him go soon but she didn’t want to, not when the simple feeling of his hand in hers made her heart soar like this. She never wanted to stop riding this high.

It was too good.

She never imagined that Stiles Stilinski, dorky, loud-mouthed, impossible Stiles Stilinski could make her feel this way.

“You know,” Stiles said, “in the original Star Trek show, no one ever said the phrase beam me up, Scotty.”

“Just like in Star Wars, the line isn’t actually Luke, I am your father.”

Stiles stopped.

“It’s not?”

“What? The great Stiles Stilinski, Star Wars nerd extraordinaire, doesn’t know that?”

“I just, I assumed.”

“It’s actually no, _I_ am your father.”

“Holy shit.”

He was quiet for a while, watching the opening sequence of the movie play out in front of them. Cora waited for a while, letting the story set up and the popcorn and nachos were mostly gone before she leaned back into him.

“You know Sherlock also never said elementary, my dear Watson, right?” she asked, nudging him playfully.

“I can’t, I need you to stop.”

She grinned.

“Follow the white rabbit never appears in Alice in Wonderland, and neither does the name Wonderland,” she added.

“How do you know these things?”

Someone behind them shushed them, and Stiles stuck his tongue out over his shoulder.

“You’re not the only one with an Internet connection on their phone and too much time on their hands,” Cora whispered back.

“Maybe I need to keep you busier, then,” Stiles muttered, leaning in to kiss her deeply. She hummed into her mate’s mouth, noticing how he tasted like butter and chocolate, how he licked her tongue to try and chase the cheese flavor from her own mouth. She slid her hands into his hair, after wiping them on her jeans. He pushed when she pulled until she had him at the farthest edge of his seat, and if there wasn’t an arm rest between them, she would’ve had him in her lap already. She wanted him as close as possible.

Fuck Star Trek.

Who cared about boldly go where no man has gone before?

She wanted to go as far with this man as she could, and she didn’t care where she was. She would fuck right in front of this entire theater if it meant she got to have her mate.

She didn’t realize she was voyeuristic, honestly, but she had been learning a lot about herself since the beginning of the week. She didn’t know that she liked shower sex as much as she did, or that she was way more down to fuck than she had thought, especially in nontraditional places- their kitchen and couch had seen a lot of action in the last week. She didn’t know that she liked being eaten out, either, because no guy before Stiles had satisfied in that way.

The person behind them coughed loudly, pointedly.

Stiles pulled away, groaning at the loss of contact.

The person leaned forward in between their seats, his rank breath ghosting into their faces and destroying their moment.

“I don’t care if you’re mated,” they hissed. “Control yourselves! You’re not animals, even if you are freaks!”

Cora felt her eyes flare gold in the dark, her upper lip curling as she turned to face them. They- he was a middle aged man with a neckbeard and beady little eyes. He shrank away as her fangs descended, her hand clutching Stiles’ arm protectively.

“Do you want to insult my mate one more time?”

There wasn’t really leeway for wolves and violence, but there was with newly mated werewolves. The hormones and emotions were still running high, at least until the separation and the hangover hit them, so when mates were threatened or insulted in the first weeks, there was a first time pass.

“Cora,” Stiles muttered.

“Apologize,” Cora growled. She stood up, and leaned over the back of the seats, snatching the front of Neckbeard’s white shirt and pulling him toward her. “Or I will cause you physical harm.”

“Miss,” another voice said, a flashlight clicking on and shining in her face. “Please unhand him.”

She let him go, tiny pricks in his white shirt left behind from her claws. She stepped back.

“Thank you,” the worker said. She forced her eyes to return to normal brown and her fangs to retract. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave the theater, please.”

“Yes, sir,” Stiles said. “We’re sorry about that. Just, you know, mating hormones.”

He nodded but escorted them out of the theater.

Once outside in the warm summer sunshine, large soda and candy still in hand, Stiles and Cora stood, and laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello babes!!! I hope you like it!!!  
> You should check out [this thing](http://errevs.tumblr.com/post/136009842011/last-ditch-by-hypocorismm-scoottiemccutie-some) that Ingrid made!!!
> 
> DFTBA  
> K


	9. Chapter 9

It was an understatement to say that Cora was not ready to go to work. Not only was she going to be the new trainee on the force, but she would be working through bond hangover as well. She wasn't going to be at the top of her game, and she was probably going to get stuck with graveyard and double shifts. She didn't expect special treatment from the Sheriff, and she didn't want it. She had gotten this far, and she could continue to make it without it.

That didn't make dressing in her uniform and kissing Stiles goodbye for the first time in a week any easier. She didn't know what to expect, even though Derek and Laura had walked her through it many times. She lingered in Stiles' arms by the door, hesitant to leave him.

"I don't want to," Cora muttered into his sleep shirt. He would have to get ready for work soon, but for now they stayed clung to one another. "Come to work with me."

"You have to go, baby," Stiles groaned as she ran her hands down to rest at the small of his back. "Dad'll be furious if you don't show on your first day so we could fuck."

"Good point," she said. He felt warm around her, his arms heavy like a safety blanket keeping her from panicking. She stepped away, groaning unhappily. "I should go. Don't want to be late to my first shift."

"Tell Dad I said hi."

"Tell him yourself," she murmured, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, "when you bring me coffee on your break."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. You’re right. Go get 'em, tiger," he said as she pulled open the door to their apartment. She grabbed her keys and stepped out. They looked at each other over the threshold, and she backed away from him. Already, she could feel the overwhelming tug on the bond between them. “Go, before I pull you back inside and have my way with you.”

“Okay, yeah. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Cora turned and headed down the stairs and outside. She got to the car and paused, taking a deep breath as the tug crashed into her over and over insistently. It wanted her to turn around and run back to Stiles. She wanted to turn around and run back to Stiles, too. But she had to get to work.

She climbed into the car, and drove to the station, reminding herself to breathe, to keep driving even though the pull turned into an ache. She was greeted by a smiling Sheriff as she pulled in to the parking lot. She got out and was engulfed in a hug.

He smelled like Stiles, and it eased the ache in her chest.

“I can’t imagine this is easy for you,” the Sheriff said, stepping away, offering a cup of coffee from the hood of his SUV. She took it and let the warmth of it radiate into her skin, grounding her. It was a trick she had learned from Laura and Derek to control her shift, to hold her in the moment rather than let the power inside her overwhelm her. She figured it might work the same for this.

She hoped, at least.

“I’ll be fine, Sheriff. I promised I would be fine, and I will be. I don’t want preferential treatment.”

“I know that, but I would give anyone some slack going through what you’re going through, daughter in law or not.”

“I’m not actually your daughter in law, though,” she reminded him with a smile. “Not technically.”

“You’re close enough, and you’re probably as close as we’re ever going to get.”

She laughed.

“Stiles hasn’t ever seemed like the marriage type.”

“No, not especially. Although, I assume that has something to do with the Courts ruling on my relationship with Claudia more than anything.”

She nodded.

“Come on. Parrish is waiting.”

“Parrish?”

“He’s gonna be your partner. I trust him with you, and you with him. His abilities are- well, you know.”

Ever since a series of murders had woken up Jordan Parrish’s hellhound abilities, he was _unpredictable_ at best. A harbinger of death, like Lydia. The Sheriff had warned her that Parrish would sometimes leave in the middle of an investigation, in a trance to find a dead body and take it away. Cora’s experience with Lydia had proven that harbingers of death all pretty much did the same thing; they predicted death at inopportune times and tends to be arrows to where dead bodies were.

“Yeah,” Cora agreed. “I know.”

She followed him into the station where she was greeted by Jordan Parrish, looking great in his uniform as always. As Stiles said, JorDAMN HE’S HOT! The thought of Stiles made the ache return to her chest in full force.

“Hey partner,” Jordan said with a winning smile. “Are you ready to become The Law?”

Cora had never gotten the full story behind that, the Sheriff and his deputies being nicknamed The Law, but she was willing to bet it had something to do with Stiles.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He gestured her away from the Sheriff, and she followed him, ready to start her career. Finally.

-&-

Jordan Parrish was the right for her. He was good partner right from the start. He understood that she was going through the hangover, and he was patient when she spaced. The first day had them at their desks, Parrish showing Cora the ropes of the computer system, and had her working on inputting fake complaints to get her used to it.

Parrish wasn’t the problem.

She was.

She itched everywhere, her skin clammy, and her wolf nervous. She needed her mate near her, the ache burning. She had read all the pamphlets, all the literature about the bond hangover. She had listened to Laura, and Derek, and Lucas, and every one of their friends who had gone through this before. They had described it, explicitly. They had tried to warn her, but she’d thought she could handle it.

She couldn’t.

She couldn’t handle it.

She was surrounded by so many people, their heartbeats loud and their scents cloying. None of them were Stiles, though. None of the heartbeats that pounded in her ears, none of the scents that stuck in her nose were his. And it was driving every instinct in her wolf crazy. She wanted to bolt from the station and find him wherever he was, to find out if he was okay.

Cora hid herself in the break room of the station away from the claustrophobic company of her new coworkers, tucked between one of the couches and the counter, her own tiny whines echoing in the small room around her. She covered her ears, curled herself into a tighter ball, and breathed slowly, with intention.

She smelled Parrish before she allowed herself to hear him, and when she looked up, he was crouched in front of her.

“Hey partner,” he said gently. He held out a bottle with some kind of green, chunky smoothie in it. “Try this.”

“What is it?”

“I had Lydia look into bond hangover remedies.”

“There’s no-”

“That’s what she said,” Parrish interrupted and then chuckled at himself. “What she found, though, was this old wives’ tale about drinking this, and I figured it couldn’t hurt. It doesn’t smell or taste great, but if it can help, then why the hell not? Plus, I’m worried about you.”

She mumbled a thanks and took the bottle. She popped open the lid and groaned at the smell.

“This is gross.”

“I know.”

She sighed and decided to throw it back as if it were a shot of harsh wolfsbane-infused liquor. It tasted nothing like she expected, like dirt and leaves and- was that cinnamon? And what were those chunks? Pineapples?

“Oh, god,” she groaned around the mouthful of whatever the fuck this was. “This is absolutely awful.”

“Yeah,” Parrish agreed, chuckling as she swallowed. “Hopefully it works.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Stiles just pulled in, if it doesn’t.”

She looked up and he grinned.

“I probably could have led with that.”

“Yeah, you definitely could’ve.”

He held out a hand to her as he stood, and she took it. He hoisted her up out of her self-imposed corner with easy strength and nodded towards the door.

“Go see your mate, Hale. The Sheriff won’t mind. You’re his favorite anyway.”

“How can you know that? It’s my first day!”

“Please, like you didn’t expect to be his favorite,” Parrish said, rolling his eyes and following her out of the breakroom. “Even if you weren’t his son’s mate, you’d still be his favorite. You’re a Hale, and you’re a-”

“A werewolf?”

“A great kid,” Parrish said, shoving her through the bullpen to where Stiles was leaning against the reception desk, three foam cups of coffee resting in front of him. He looked great, wearing a tan button up shirt- a name tag attached to the fabric above his heart which read **STILES-** and a surprisingly nice pair of jeans, but Cora could tell something was off. He looked up as she drew nearer, and a wave of relief washed over her through the bond between them. “Is one of those mine, Stilinski?”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles said as he rounded the reception desk. Cora strode over to him and collided with him, letting them rock as they gripped one another. He smelled good, better than Cora realized, and he was warm, comfortable, _familiar_.  

“I missed you,” she muttered in his ear.

“I missed you more.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“It is.”

She laughed, tucking her face into his neck to inhale his scent. She was so used to it, or she should have been. But it was different, somehow. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but it was different than what his scent used to be. There was always notes of her in his scent, but the notes there now smelled- It was them, together. In his scent there was her but her scent was marked with him. It was _StilesCora-_ Stora, if you will- now, not just Stiles and Cora. Like they were one entity, their scents so intermingled that she couldn’t pick out her from him and him from her, starting and ending with each other, like a circle that never ended.

There was probably a term for that, but she couldn’t remember it.

It didn’t matter.

Stiles was there, in her arms, holding her just as tight as she was holding him.

“Don’t go back to work,” Cora requested quietly.

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

She whined.

“Let’s go live off the land, so we don’t have to leave each other.”

“We can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

He stepped back, her whine surprising her.

“Well, first of all, neither of us have any wilderness skills. Second of all, your siblings and my dad would kill us if we just dropped off the map.”

“Yeah, but-”

“I know. I understand that benefits.”

She dropped her forehead against the smooth material of his shirt and sighed. He played with her ponytail.

“Hello Stiles,” the Sheriff said, exiting his office. “I didn’t realize that you were stopping by.”

“It’s recommended that mates get small doses of interaction during the bond hangover to stabilize them,” Stiles replied. “And it’s also recommended that sons check on their fathers when they’re dieting to make sure that they’re sticking to their diets.”

“Oh, is it now?”

Stiles nodded, chin bumping against the top of Cora’s head.

“Ten out of ten doctors agree.”

“I’m sure,” the Sheriff deadpanned.

Cora could imagine the shit-eating grin that Stiles was giving his father and the little snarky wink that accompanied it without having to see it herself. She knew him well enough.

“Did you bring me some kind of rabbit food, then?”

“If by rabbit food you mean did I bring you a healthy veggie burger and a salad, then yes. I brought you a heart-healthy and delicious lunch for your enjoyment.”

“Did you bring me decaf coffee, too?”

“As if I would deprive the man with a gun of his caffeine.”

“You deprive him of his meat, so why not?”

“I don’t have a death wish, despite what you may think.”

“I _think_ that you’re cruising for a bruising, young man.”

“Ooh, young man. You wound me with such impersonality, Father.”

“Go back to work, Stiles.”

“Ouch. Dismissed as well.”

Cora looked up to see the Sheriff rolling his eyes at Stiles.

“Cora, escort your mate back to his car, please,” the Sheriff said, a fond but exasperated smile on his face. She used to wonder why the universe dealt a man like John Stilinski a kid like Stiles, but she knew that they were good together, a small, tight family that had no one but each other. They made sense, though, their dry wit and sarcasm blended together well.

“Yes, sir.”

She smiled, and stepped away, running her hands down his shoulder blades, skirting down his arms, and taking his hands.

“Come on, babe. Stop annoying The Law.”

“I said that once!” Stiles insisted, as she pulled him towards the exit. “When will you people get over it?”

“Never,” Cora informed him, guiding him. “You know they will never let it go.” 

Once they had reached the Jeep, she pressed him into the door and kissed him hard, sliding her tongue between his lips. He tasted of coffee, and sweet glaze. He held her by the hips, fingertips tucked beneath her belt.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Stiles said when Cora broke the kiss reluctantly. “I’ve never missed someone this much, not even-”

“Me neither. It physically hurt. I wanted to vomit.”

“I know. Everything around me was irritating. I snapped at a sixteen year old. She just wanted to know where the lids were, but I snapped at her. I didn’t mean to. But I was a total dick because all I could think about was you and how far away you were and how I didn’t know if you were okay or if you were doing okay at work and I am such a mess without you. I’m surprised I haven’t been fired.”

“Stiles.”

“I’m serious.”

Cora kissed him quiet, running her hands through his hair. It was soft and hadn’t been gelled up that day, flopping over halfway like he’d run his hands through it enough to make it begin to stand.

“When we get home tonight, I suggest we strip to nothing, and lay with each other in bed, and just not move,” Cora said, playing with his hair as she looked him in those gorgeous golden sunshine whiskey eyes. “Maybe order some Chinese. I’m feeling sushi, what do you think?”

He rested his forehead against hers.

“I will do whatever you want, as long as you’re there.”

“I’ll always be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, check [thiiiiiiis](http://errevs.tumblr.com/post/136362500836/last-ditch-by-hypocorismm-scoottiemccutie) out!  
> Second of all, you should leave me a comment with predictions and suggestions and criticisms (anything, tbh! You could tell me what you had for dinner and I would be delighted)!! Also leave kudos, bookmarks, share it, whatever you please!!
> 
> Thanks, cuties!  
> Remember to check me out on tumblr at [ScoottieMcCutie](http://scoottiemccutie.tumblr.com)!!
> 
> DFTBA,  
> K


	10. Chapter 10

The bond hangover was hell. It lasted four days of them rarely seeing each other, since Cora had double shifts and only had time for Stiles when he stopped by the station on his break, if she was even at the station. Parrish had graduated her to riding in the cruiser with him on patrol. It was a slow time, apparently, since everyone was still gearing themselves back up from the week of downtime and drinking.

“Okay, but-”

“Stiles, shut up and lay down with me,” Cora grunted, grabbing her mate and dragging him down onto the couch with her.

“I’m not watching Pretty Little Liars.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m watching it, and I want to cuddle with you on my day off. Now shut up, and hold me.”

Stiles shifted and wrapped his arms around her, letting her tuck in underneath his chin. She felt safe against him, his arms a comforting weight to remind her where she was, who she was with. The _StilesCora_ scent mingled with the scent of popcorn and pine, grounding her here in this moment.

“Who’s that?” he asked, gesturing to the screen.

“Hanna.”

“Is she the dead girl?”

“No, that’s Alison.”

“Oh.”

He paused.

“Is she the one dating her teacher?”

“That’s Aria.”

“Oh.”

He paused again.

“Is she-”

“I’m going to punch you. Shut up, and just watch it.”

He chuckled and kissed her temple gently. He nuzzled his nose into her hair, and sighed happily.

“I don’t care what we watch,” he said, “as long as we’re watching it together. I would watch Titanic and blubber over and over again, as long as you’re with me.”

“I’m not watching Titanic.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s sad.”

“So?”

“I don’t watch movies to be _sad_.”

“Then,” Stiles paused, “why do you watch movies?”

“To be entertained. I don’t know. I don’t want to cry when I’m watching movies. I like my emotions under my own control, especially when there’s fictional characters involved. I’m not gonna cry over some fake people.”

“Oh, I’ve seen your control on your emotions. It’s okay to let loose sometimes.”

“No.”

Stiles laughed and kissed her on the forehead.

“Okay, but remember, I saw you tear up watching Marley and Me _and_ I Am Legend.”

“Okay, but crying over a dog’s death is not the same thing.”

“A _fictional_ dog. A _fake_ dog. Sam and Marley aren’t real.”

“Shut up.”

She could feel herself blushing.

“I’m going to ignore you now so I can watch my show.”

Stiles murmured into her forehead his promise to keep quiet, and then kissed her hairline. His breath ghosted warm down her nose.

“Explain to me why you like this show.”

“I’m just,” she said, pausing to shrug, “always a slut for drama.”

-&-

“We’re not getting take out.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’ve been eating take out for two weeks, and I want to cook.”

“But Chinese food.”

“No. Now come over here and try this, asshole.”

Stiles grumbled but slid over to Cora’s side, opening his mouth for the spoon she held out. She fed him a bit of the sauce and looked at him expectantly.

“Is this the sauce from the fridge?” he asked around the sauce, not wanting to swallow it.

“No, I made it myself.”

He swallowed, then.

“Okay, because that’s been in there for, well, a while.”

“I know, I tossed it before I started dinner. So, how’s it taste?”

“It’s really good. Is it-”

“My dad’s old recipe. I snatched his recipe book from the vault.”

“Ooooh, taking things out of the family vault, you naughty girl.”

She shrugged, stirring the sauce and checking on the pasta boiling on the back burner. She remembered sitting at the kitchen table, watching her dad move around as he made dinner. The house always smelled of garlic and her dad’s herb garden. Her dad had been the only one with a green thumb in the entire Hale family; even Derek wasn’t capable of keeping anything alive, and Derek was their father’s carbon copy. Although, Cora knew that Derek may look like their father, but he was entirely their mother’s son.

And yet, Laura had drawn the alpha-material card.

“Do Laura and Derek know that you have his recipe book?”

“No, they don’t go into the vault.”

“They don’t?”

“It’s still too painful for them. They have more memories of Mom, Dad, everyone. I don’t. It makes me feel better to go in there, feel connected to them. It’s the only things we have left of them, of all of them.”

“I get that,” Stiles said. “Dad can’t go into the attic. Mom’s stuff is up there, and I sometimes go up there just to sit.”

Cora dropped her head against his shoulder.

“Are you going to cook for me every night?”

“No. I’m going to _teach you_ to cook so I don’t have to do all the work, and because you need to learn.”

“I know how to cook!”

“No, Stiles, you know how to make mac and cheese from a box, and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“That’s cooking!”

“That’s barely cooking. That’s, that’s cheat-cooking. I’m gonna teach you to cook-cook.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a grown ass adult and misogyny won’t feed your hungry grown ass.”

Stiles nodded.

“That’s fair. We’re not starting tonight, are we? Because I just want to eat and cuddle.”

“We’ll start tomorrow. I have an early shift because your father hates sleep, so I’ll be home right around lunch.”

“I work until four.”

“Okay, we’ll go to the grocery store tomorrow after you get out of work, and we’ll start your lessons.”

-&-

After a hearty dinner of Papa Hale’s famous spaghetti and meatballs with a side of garlic cheese bread, and after Stiles cleaned the dishes (while Cora heckled him), they stumbled into their bedroom, leaving a trail of shed clothes while they went. They flopped into bed together, and Cora tucked herself under his chin.

“Are you writing in your spare time?” Cora asked.

“I’m still researching.”

Stiles wanted to publish research on the exposure of supernatural creatures, how they integrated themselves into society, and how that lined up with their earlier mythologies. Cora wasn’t entirely sure that she fully understood it, but she supported Stiles because he understood it and it made him happy.

“Are you researching, then?”

“I am.”

“Do you need any help?”

“Cora, I appreciate it, but-”

She laughed, tipping her head back into his neck.

“I don’t mean me helping with the research, but helping with getting to research. Do you need help with freeing up time to research?”

“No, I’ve got it. I can handle that. I just need you to be here when it gets to be too much.”

“Always.”

“Just promise me there will always be naked cuddles in our lives.”

“Always, Stiles.”

“No matter what happens, okay? No matter what life decides to fuck us over with.”

“Do you know something that I don’t, babe? Are the fae suddenly gifted with clairvoyance or something?”

“Some are, actually,” he said, his fingers curled into her side. “I’m not, though. I’m not good at most fae things, being half human. My queens still love me, even if I’m the worst fairy to exist.”

“Your queens?”

Cora was met with only silence.

“Well, fuck,” he muttered.

“What?”

She sat up.

“I just- I need to do a thing.”

“What kind of thing?”

“A fairy tradition thing,” Stiles said, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I should’ve done this during the first week, or even before. Hazel will understand, but Shayleigh might not.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m an unaffiliated fae, but I am welcome in both Courts, in the Seelie and the Unseelie. The Stilinskis are a very well-known line of fae, so I have a personal relationship with both queens, and it happens to be fairy tradition to bring an intended to meet your queen, for approval more or less. Recently it’s become more of a formality, but they’ve denied relationships before.”

“Did your da-”

“My dad took my mom to meet his queen, and they gave him an ultimatum. They said it was either my mom or them, and he was so in love with her. And she was already pregnant with me.”

“He chose her.”

“Yeah, he forsook the Courts, and became human.”

“That’s _an option_?”

“It’s not a desirable option, but it is a thing. It’s giving up everything you are, and replacing it with someone you’re not, someone weaker, and you can’t find who you’re supposed to be. My dad was lost months.”

“How do you know that?”

“My mom kept journals, and left them in the attic. I used to read them on my bad days.”

“Don’t ever do that to yourself, okay? Not for anything.”

Stiles turned Cora onto her back and kissed her deeply, one hand smoothing back her hair.

“I’d do it for you. I would become small, and fragile, and lost _for you_. You know that, right?”

She ran a hand up his neck and into his hair, gripping as she felt her chin wobble.

“I love you,” Cora said soberly. The last time either one of them had said that was probably during or immediately after sex. “I love you so much.”

“Cora,” he whispered so low that even Cora had to strain to hear it. “I love you, too. I don’t care what the queens say, I won’t give you up for anything. You’re too important to me. You’re more than I ever thought I would get, more than I deserve.”

Cora nudged him in the jaw with her nose.

“I know.”

Stiles grinned.

“You’re perfect for me. People have tried to tell me that I belong with Scott, and with Lydia, but you, you’re it. You’re perfect for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I thought this was the last happy chapter you got before I dropped the reality bomb, but thanks to Meredith, you got at least two more chapter of good happiness. I hope you liked it.   
> Remember to kudos, comment, subscribe, bookmark, share! Drop by my tumblr if you want to talk more Stora or Teen Wolf, I'm at scoottiemccutie.tumblr.com!!!
> 
> DFTBA  
> K


	11. Chapter 11

Cora was unbelievably nervous, dressing in her best pair of jeans and the nicest button up shirt that she owned. She hadn’t been this nervous on the day of the Run, or when she had to leave Stiles for the first time. She hadn’t been this nervous in years. It made her stomach twist, and her heart live in her throat. Her hands were clammy, unconsciously clenching and unclenching.

“Cora.”

Stiles came up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist to hold her against him.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’m meeting _a queen_. I’m not queen material. I’m just a, a, I don’t know, an orphan beta.”

“Babe,” he sighed, pulling her in closer and nuzzling into her shoulder. “We went over this. She’s cool. She doesn’t, she’s, it’ll be fine. She’ll love you.”

“What if she doesn’t and then you have to give up being a fairy or whatever, and-”

“Cora, I don’t care what she says. Okay? I won’t leave you, no matter what either of them say. Being fae is not all that I am. I’m a lousy one, anyway. If I lose it, there are other things in me that matter more. Like how much I love you, and taking care of my dad, and being friends with Scott. There’s nothing in my life that is more important than _what_ I am. It’s who I am that has always mattered. So if that’s what you’re nervous about, about what the decision about us might be, that’s not a concern.”

“I just don’t want to be the reason that you do have to give up that part of your-”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we have to come to it, but until then, let’s go in thinking that it’s going to work out.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up through her.

“When did you become the optimist?”

“Well,” he said slowly, rocking them back and forth, “we’re both pretty pessimistic here, so I figured I would try it out.”

“It’s not a good look for you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later. We should get going, right?”

“Yeah, just let me dig something out.”

“Something is awfully vague and unhelpful.”

Stiles kissed her on the cheek and slipped away into the bedroom. She followed him, partly out of curiosity and partly because she had forgotten to grab socks. She found him flat on his stomach, halfway under their bed, making small grunting noises as he did, something.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Getting something,” he said, voice was muffled by the bed above him.

“Yes, that answered so many questions that I have.”

“I- hold on.”

Cora dug around in her sock drawer until she found her favorite pair of socks, and sat on the bed above him. She set her feet on Stiles’ back while she put on her socks.

“GOT IT!”

He shuffled out, wiggling himself backwards in some awkward kind of army crawl. He sat back on his knees and showed her his hand.

“That is, what is that?”

In it was some kind of glass bauble, like a heavy duty kind of Christmas ball but without the metal hook at the top.

“It’s a, I’m not entirely sure what you would call it, but part of tradition is to bring the queen a gift for her mantle. This one, my dad brought her when he brought my mom.”

“How old is she?”

“Ancient, I’m pretty sure.”

“How do we know that she won’t decide the same way, then?”

“Because she’s grown as a person. She went through some shit right after I was born, I guess, and she was completely changed. Physically, as well as mentally and emotionally. She was, I don’t know the full story, but she changed, and I don’t know, but I get the feeling that she’s a bit more liberal these days.”

“So, she won’t make you choose?”

“I don’t think so. I won’t let her, anyway. I’ll just filibuster her into submission if I have to.”

Cora laughed and took the ball from him. It was heavy, like a paper weight, made of bright blue glass. It reminded her of summertime, something that Stiles had said when he described his real form to her. It was warm to the touch, strange for glass anything, and vibrated at Cora’s touch.

“I’ve never seen it do that,” Stiles said, leaning towards her.

“It’s not doing anything.”

“Look at it with your wolf eyes.”

Cora rolled her eyes but focused on changing them, and when she opened them, she was staring at a glowing ball of bright yellow magic.

“What’s it doing?”

“I don’t know. It’s the same color as your eyes, though.”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t the one that bought it originally. All Dad said was that she would love it, that it was exactly what the queen of the light never knew that she needed.”

“Weird.”

Stiles shrugged.

“What happens if she doesn’t like it?”

“She has a pile of gifts that she gives away to courtiers and lovers and random people in her rule. She doesn’t take it out on you, but it helps if she likes it.”

“Do you bring her things, normally?”

“My sparkling wit and charm.”

Cora laughed and rolled her eyes again, letting her eyes fade to normal.

“We should go,” Stiles decided, standing and offering his hand to her. She took it and he hoisted her up onto her feet. “Come on, no use in putting this off. She doesn’t like people being late.”

“And she _likes_ you?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, Stiles, that late is just part of your personality. The last time you were late you texted me to say that you didn’t even have an excuse, it’s just who you are as a person.”

“It’s true.”

“Well, I’m aware of that, but I bet your professors aren’t so fond of that excuse.”

“Not really, but they got used to me coming in ten minutes late. I always brought them their favorite order from the café.”

“You little suck up.”

“It’s fine. It worked. I graduated.”

“Is that how you graduated?” she asked.

“Stop stalling.”

“I’m serious. Are you only graduated because you bribed every teacher with coffee and caffeine?”

“No. I just bribed them not to mark me late every class.”

She used the hand still held in Stiles’ to take them from the bedroom and into the living room.

“So, how do we get to this Court?”

“By magic.”

“Magic.”

“Magic, Miss Hale. You do believe in magic, don’t you?”

“I’m a werewolf, Stiles, mated with a fairy. I believe in more than just magic. I just don’t understand how magic is going to magically transport us from our living room to some fae Court.”

“Put on your shoes and we’ll talk, babe.”

She put her shoes on as requested, sensible sneakers just in case she had to run away from whatever was in store from them. Although, if they had to use magic to get there, running might not get them out.

“Give me your hand.”

She took it again, and watched as Stiles pocketed the orb and held up his hand towards the door. Stiles’ hand glowed with the shimmering dark magic that flowed through his veins without his Glamours.

“Don’t let go of my hand, okay? No matter what. Not until we land.”

“Land where?”

“Where I’m hoping we’ll go.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Stiles smirked and a burst of the magic flew at the door, hitting it square in the middle and infecting it with the magic. He reached out and pulled open the door, but instead of facing their stairs, they were facing a big, shimmery space where their stairs used to be. It didn’t smell or sound like anything, all of her senses telling her that it was a nothing space, that nothing was there. It wasn’t _anything_ , and it was driving her wolf crazy.

“We’re going in there?”

“Don’t let go.”

“Stiles,” she said as he pulled her through into the void. Before she could get her bearings in the nothingness, they stepped out of it and into a brightly lit clearing surrounded by a dense, luscious forest. There were beautifully carved picnic tables lining the clearing, plants of all different sizes and colors growing between them in thick groups. There were so many fairies, too, of all different colors flitting between the tables, laughing melodious laughs as they hovered above the group, wings beating fast like hummingbirds. At the far end, there was an intricately carved throne set into a very large redwood tree, guards posted on either side of it with large staffs that glowed blue at the end. A creek trickled just underneath and around the throne, like the royal who sat there enjoyed dipping her feet into the water.

And sitting on the throne, was a young woman, very slight and willowy, with bright blue skin that evoked the feeling of summertime. The entire court, Cora noticed, made her feel like she was in a picturesque summer day, hot and sunny with just the right amount of chill to the gentle breeze. The woman, though, was stunning, hair of spun gold fell in loose curls to her waist and Cora could feel the deep blue ocean of her eyes fix on her. A silver circlet twisted to look like leaves and twigs perched on top of her curls, a dark blue sapphire settled in the set into the leaf right in the middle of her forehead.

“Come closer, Stiles,” she called, her voice like wind chimes.

“Come on,” Stiles said, squeezing Cora’s hand. Nothing was going to comfort her, then, though. Her heart was hammering staccato beats against her ribcage. Her heart could keep a marching band in time, it was so loud. She followed him across the grassy ground towards the queen.

Everything smelled like fruit and flowers and honey, blowing in to greet her on every single gust of wind.

“Your majesty,” Stiles said, bowing before the queen.

“Oh, stop it,” she said with a tinkling laugh. “You know I hate that.”

“I do,” Stiles agreed. “Hazel, this is my kind of intended, but already mated mate, Cora Hale. Cora, this is the queen of the Seelie Court, Hazel.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Hazel said, rising from her throne and crossing the stream towards them. She pushed Stiles playfully away from Cora, breaking Cora’s death grip on his hand, and circled her like a vulture around carrion. “Well, you are one of the finest specimens of werewolf that has ever graced my Court willingly. I didn’t realize that you were seeing anyone this seriously, Stiles.”

She stepped close to Cora, so close that their noses brushed. Her breath smelled how Cora imagined sunshine might smell. Her eyes had flecks of dark shimmer to them, like the shimmer of magic.

“Can you shift for me?”

“Hazel,” Stiles said.

“I just want to see. I haven’t seen a beta form in quite a while, since before your parents were even born.”

Cora let the shift come over her, and Hazel grinned.

“My, you are beautiful, aren’t you? Hale, is that right? Yes, I see your grandmother in you, Cora.”

She had heard that she looked so much like her mother, but she had never heard anything about her grandmother.

“She was a beautiful wolf as well, a very strong Alpha. I adored her. She would bring me little bits of baubles and knickknacks that she swiped from other Alpha’s dens. That was when I lived in a different body, I suppose. A different Hale for every body. How poetic.”

She turned suddenly to Stiles, hitting Cora in the face with a wave of hair that smelled of nothing but forest. It startled her out of her shift.

“Did you bring me something?”

Stiles pulled the glass from his pocket, a feat that Cora still didn’t understand because his pocket wasn’t that big and there was no indication that there was anything in his pocket. Hazel squealed and held her hand out for it. He set it in her hand and she did this adorable full body wiggle dance like she couldn’t contain her excitement.

“I had to reject it when I, well, you know. I don’t know where your father found it, but this is one of my favorite things in the world.”

“What _is_ it, Hazel?”

“It’s an orb.”

“That much I understand.”

She laughed, tossing her hair away from her face with her free hand.

“It’s a power indicator. Or, rather, a lineage indicator. For instance, if Cora were to hold it-”

“It glows yellow, like a beta’s eyes.”

“Yes, because her power comes from the very long line of Hale wolves. If she were to rise to Alpha from the Hale line, the orb would glow red. If she were to take another Alpha’s powers, it would remain yellow.”

“So it only recognizes that power that comes from my ancestry, from my blood,” Cora said. Hazel looked at her with a kind fondness in her eyes.

“Yes. Stiles, when he holds it, creates a glow of mixed colors, of the bright blue of the Seelie, and the dark purple of the Unseelie, swirling together as it does in his blood. Look at it, Cora, with your wolf’s eyes, and tell me what color it glows for me.”

She shifted only her eyes to look at it, and found that it wasn’t.

“It, it isn’t?”

“Very good.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It does not recognize a lineage in me, because in this body, I have none. I was not always this,” she said, gesturing to herself. “This is not the body my ancestry gave to me, and their blood does not run in my veins. No one’s does. There is not lineage to me, so I have no power to draw from.”

Cora looked at the orb, dull in her hands.

“Why did you want it, then?”

“Well,” Hazel said with a shrug. “It’s always nice to have a reminder of where I’ve been, and who I’ve become. I’ve been searching for this for a very long time, since before I lost my lineage. I’ve gone through a lot, but this is a reminder that I’ll always have my memories, and my experiences, no matter what else I’ve lost.”

“So, Hazel,” Stiles said. “About why we’re here?”

“Oh, that, that, right, it’s fine. I like her. She can stay. Not that I really have any say since you’re mated already.”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah,” Stiles replied slowly. “I’m sorry about that. It was a last minute decision.”

Hazel smiled, her teeth sharp and pointed and gleaming white.

“It’s fine, Stilinski. I’m not judging you or angry at you or anything. I’m proud of you. You finally got someone, and she _is hot_.”

“Isn’t she?” Stiles said. They both paused to look at Cora, and she blushed.

“Stop, _she_ can hear you,” Cora complained.

“Is that all you came to see me for, darling? You only come to see me when you need something. I’m starting to think you don’t like me very much,” Hazel cooed.

“Your Majesty,” Stiles cooed back. “I would never.”

They laughed like it was some inside joke.

“Your duty is complete, in case you wanted to bolt out of here, but the hunters will be back soon if you want to join us for the feast.”

“We actually have to go see your lovely counterpart before the end of the night. She’d be livid if she knew I didn’t see you both on the same day.”

“Oh, that’s no fun,”

He laughed.

“It was good seeing you, Hazel. I promise we’ll stop by for the solstice.”

“That’s not for months!”

He grinned, a sly, sarcastic grin, and said while taking Cora’s hand, “better make it a good one, then.”


End file.
